Ezra’s gaze is steady. “Well, I think it is,” he says. “And I’d like to prove it to you, if you’ll let me.”

My heart is in my throat. But I’ve come this far for Dorian; I can’t stop now. So after a moment, I nod.

Chapter Seventeen

Walking into the MRF feels extra risky the next morning, knowing what we plan to do right under their noses. Ezra is waiting for me in the lobby with coffee, like he knows I need the boost. My hands tremble as I accept it from him, and he gives me a knowing, encouraging nod.

I’m exhausted after a sleepless night and terrified about potentially revealing my abilities to the MRF. But when I think of Dorian sitting in that cell, I find the courage to step through the door. Ezra and I walk toward the observation room.

“Ezra!”

We both freeze and turn as a smiling, dark-haired young woman approaches us from down the hallway.

“Hey, Mara,” Ezra says. I stay at his side, unsure if I should speak, my eyes darting between the stranger and the observation room just a few steps away.

“Hey.” The woman’s eyes slide to me. “I don’t think we’ve met! Are you new here? I’m Mara Vance.”

I hesitate, clutching my coffee tighter.

“This is Gwen; she’s a consultant on X-15,” Ezra says.

“Ooh. Interesting. So are you a fellow, um, ghost enthusiast?”

“I guess you could say that,” I mumble, fidgeting.

“Cool,” she says. Then she peers at me more closely, and my discomfort grows. “You look familiar, actually. Do I know you from somewhere?”

Panic sparks in my chest and spreads, filling my body with an electric buzz of anxiety. “Oh, n-no, I don’t think…” I glance up and meet her eyes and realize with a fresh wave of dread that Idorecognize her. I have a vague memory of a younger version of her, chubby-cheeked with a gap between her teeth. She must be from Ash Valley. I didn’t know her well, but it’s a small town.

Her eyes widen in recognition, too, but she seems to note my frozen panic. She glances from me to Ezra, who gives the smallest shake of his head.

“Oh, my mistake. Never mind then,” Mara says, with a breezy wave of her hand. “Anyway, lots to do, I’m off. But let’s catch up soon, Ezra. I want to hear all the juicy details of what you’ve been up to.” She shoots him a meaningful look, along with a finger gun.

“Sure, sure,” he says, pushing his glasses up and giving her a grateful smile. When she leaves, he blows out a relieved breath. “She’s a friend,” he mutters. “Don’t worry about her.”

I nod, but my nerves are buzzing even more than before. Sometimes it seems like Ezra and I are the only ones in this building, but Mara is a reminder that that’s not true. There are other people, and cameras, and so many ways for this to go wrong…

As I step into the observation room and see the equipment covering the table, I lurch to a stop, taken aback again.

“What is all of this stuff?” I ask, staring. There are strange metal devices heaped on the table and arranged on the floor. Some of them look like medical tools, or something out of a science fiction movie. Others look more like torture devices. It’s uncomfortably close to my memories of being institutionalized—or my nightmares about being locked in a lab and experimented on for the rest of my life.

Ezra smiles sheepishly. “Anything and everything that I thought might be helpful to us. As far as I could find by digging through the files, the MRF has never had access to a real psychic before, so there’s no precedent about how to measure or evoke their abilities, aside from the tests I’ve done on myself over the years. We’ll have to learn through trial and error.”

I glance at the camera in the corner, noting that the blinking light is off as Ezra promised. Then I approach the table, eyeing the various bizarre machines.

But when I look toward the window into Dorian’s cell, I know that I have to do this. He isn’t visible right now, but I canfeelhim there—and I remember, too, the way I felt when I thought he was gone forever.

If using my abilities can strengthen Dorian, it is worth the risk. Even more so if Ezra is right that it will make it safe to explore my memories again and I can prove his innocence that way.

Or, if this all goes wrong and I need to break Dorian out myself… I suppose I’ll need my abilities then, too.

Anyway, Ezra isn’t some mad scientist who’s going to go poking around in my brain. He’s like me. “I trust you,” I say, taking a seat.

I keep that in mind as I sit still while he attaches electrodes to my head, hooking me up to a machine. I swallow hard, hands fisting on my lap.

“This is just to measure your neural activity when you’re using your powers,” Ezra says. “It’s not going to do anything to you, just take some readings that might be helpful in understanding the nature of your abilities.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “So, what now?”