It was the red zig-zags that got me. The hole in his chest was bad—I’m not going to lie—but it was smaller than I would have thought, and it had been cleaned up. It didn’t look real. The red zig-zags from where they had cut open his chest cavity then sewn him up again, the way the skin puckered around the stitches, the small depressions where his ribs were slightly misaligned, the various colors of the body, and the way his skin had drawn back from his face—it was those details that reached right through my defenses the way a breeze can pass right through a jacket.

I went cold and a little numb. I was glad for the numbness. It made it easier to look at the body.

I could hear a murmur, but I wasn’t sure if it was the muffled roaring in my ears. It took me a second to tune in.

“…Miss Cole?…Emerra!”

“Huh?”

I looked up. It was Darius. Of course it was Darius. There was no one else in the room.

I glanced at the deep wall broken up by the perfect rows of small doors. There was technically no one else in the room.

“Are they full?”

The vampire followed my eyes. “About half of them.”

“How…how do you know that?”

“Vampires are good at sensing blood.”

“Sensing?”

“Emerra.” He nodded to the body lying on the table.

I swallowed and looked back down. After another second, I said, “Is there anything in particular you want me to look at?”

“No. Just tell me if you see anything strange.”

I stepped forward. The awfulness didn’t get any worse, so I slowly walked around the table. Darius stepped out of the way so I could pass him.

When I had finished the circuit, I looked up again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

My senses had cleared enough, I could hear how small my voice sounded.

“You don’t see anything?”

I gazed at the body. “He’s empty.”

“Empty?”

I nodded, but my eyes were still fixed on the corpse. I lifted my arm—

“Emerra!”

Darius’s abrupt shout made me blink.

He was on the other side of the table, reaching out to me. His face was frozen in an expression of startled concern. I almost turned to check if something was behind me, but then I realized he was staring right at me.

“You probably shouldn’t touch him,” Darius said.

I looked down. My hand was only an inch away from the hole in his chest.

And that freaked me out more than anything I had seen so far.

“Ohhh-hohoho-kay!” I yanked my hand back. “Well, now! Isn’t that interesting?”

Did I sound hysterical? No matter. I felt hysterical.

I cleared my throat and looked up at Darius. “Don’t worry. I, uh…I don’t usually go around touching dead bodies.”

He relaxed. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It shouldn’t matter, really. They’ve already gathered the evidence. It just surprised me. Most people try to avoid touching them.”

“Yeah. I’m the reason for all those ‘don’t touch’ signs in the museums. Not that I read them. One of my teachers threatened to tie my hands behind my back.”

“Did you see anything?”

“No.” I gazed down at the corpse, but this time I kept my eyes fixed on its hand. “Nothing but one dead body. He looks lonely.”

“Lonely?”

I shrugged.

“All right.” Darius’s voice conveyed nothing—no excitement, no disappointment, no resignation. I was pretty sure he had deliberately chosen that tone. “Then let’s get you out of here before you decide to start tampering with important evidence.”

“Good idea.”

I didn’t get to sleep until after two in the morning. I could hear the clock chime on the landing. When I did get to sleep, I had a nightmare.

I woke bolt upright in bed, gasping

My stomach was still cold and clenched in terror, but I couldn’t remember anything about the dream. After a few breaths, I put a hand up to my face. I yanked it back when I felt the sheen of sweat on my forehead.

Geez. What was happening to me?

I grabbed my extra pillow to wipe my face, and I wasn’t gentle about it.

Stupid nightmare.

I scooted back under my blankets, punched my pillow into shape, and let out a huge sigh of feigned relief.

But all my acting couldn’t change the fact my body felt like it was filled with ice-cold butterflies. When I couldn’t ignore my nerves any longer, I threw myself from my bed and started pacing.

Despite Iset’s assurances that Conrad wasn’t going to eat me, I hadn’t been brave enough to use the TV room. I wasn’t feeling any kind of brave at the moment, so all I could do was walk from one side of my room to the other, hoping to find a reason to be up.

I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. My heart stopped.

I forced myself to turn around. There was nothing. I took a few steps back.

The source of the movement had been the full length mirror inside my closet. I’d seen the reflection of myself pacing.

I laughed. It felt a bit like a sob.

“Emerra, you’re scaring yourself,” I whispered. Then I grinned at the double-meaning.

Still grinning at my unintended brilliance, I walked over to the mirror, reached out, and pressed one finger against the finger of my doppelgänger.

My smile faded.

Olivia didn’t have an extra set of pajamas. All she could offer was a tank top, so I slept in that and my underwear.

My pale limbs looked ghostly compared to the darkness of the room. I had always been skinny, but the cancer had withered me away even further. With my hair gone and so little covering my body, I was exposed at last.

I looked like a corpse.

I closed my eyes to banish the thought. When I opened them again, I stared hard at the girl in the mirror.

Pale. Thin. Dark eyes. Not a corpse.

I didn’t have the utter emptiness of the body on the table—that hard-to-explain hollowness. The body hadn’t been empty like an empty jar, but like the emptiness of a jar where the glass that made up its walls has been peeled away, leaving nothing.

There was something in the girl in the mirror. I could see that something in her eyes.

But all the same…she looked lonely.