I stand before the mirror, the morning light reflecting off my freshly washed hair. Leaning forward, I inspect the blue-violet color of my irises, identical to Rhett's. Is this how they knew I was the one they were looking for that day in the woods? Dad has the same eyes. Is it another trait passed down hundreds of years, just like the antidote coursing through my veins?

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting the seconds it takes to empty my lungs.

Luke was right. I need to hear them out. I had spent all afternoon and night restless. Overthinking. Weighing the pros and cons. I even skipped breakfast, but my stomach was too unsettled to eat anyway. In the end, I decided that it would be extremely selfish and closed-minded of me to not at least try, so I am giving Dr. Tabb a chance.

I have to do this for myself.

But also for Markee. Natio, and for the Outlanders everywhere perishing at the grotesque hands of Skinwalkers.

A reluctant part of me wishes Luke would accompany me. I would never ask, and I scold myself for even thinking it—especially after yesterday. Instead, I directly all focus on putting one foot in front of the other as I stride out of my room, feeling more confident than I have in days.

I stop short of the stairwell as Rhett just clears to top step.

"Morning, Soph," he greets cautiously, running a hand over the back of his neck. "Listen, I'm sorry for yesterday. I know it was a lot to take in."

I exhale my nerves and smile softly at him. "It was," I begin. "But I shouldn't have just run off like that. I should have heard what you and Dr. Tabb had to say."

Rhett pulls me in for a hug. "I should have known. You've always liked your space."

I lean into his embrace, my arms squeezing around his waist. It reminds me of all the times back home when we would fight, and how mom would make us hug it out after. Then, I remember the ultimate payback.

Sneakily, I slip my hands down and press into his ribs.

"Hahaha nooo!" he cries, prying my wriggling fingers off his side. "I'm vulnerable!"

I can't help the laughter that bubbles out of me. "Still ticklish, I see," I chirp.

The playfulness glints mischievously in his eyes, and I mentally prepare for retaliation, but then someone joins us in the stairwell.

"Luke," Rhett greets, and my skin jumps at his name. "I never properly thanked you for getting Sophie here safe and sound. I figured Summus Aspen would have sent you. I couldn't have asked for a better escort."

I look up to see Luke's handsome mouth twitch. "So my father is the one who orchestrated this whole thing?"

Rhett nods. "Yes, under Dr. Tabb's instruction. He has the manpower and the resources to expend." He shrugs and slings an arm around my shoulder. "We needed my sister here. And now she is."

Rhett is smiling at me so brilliantly, and the half-hearted grin on my face feels dull in comparison. I recall the wall blown open, pulverized rock littering the ground. I remember the fighting and the stink of blood. Rhett does not know of the damage caused that day; but will it affect his means to an end?

I meet Luke's eyes, and see in them the same thing reflected in my heart. His voice echoes in my mind, explaining how he would do things so differently than his father. We can do this. This is my chance—our chance—to make a difference. To alter the course of mortality for the people of Natio.

No matter what got us here, I won't squander this opportunity.

Rhett and Luke escort me to the laboratory where Dr. Tabb waits. She jumps up excitedly when she sets her eyes on me, and I fight the urge to recoil.

"Sophie has decided to help us with the cure trials," Rhett tells her. What he doesn't say is that I would aid them as long as I have the option to call it quits at any time. It was my only stipulation, and Rhett agreed without hesitation.

"Spectacular! Let's get started then," She chirps. We cross the room to an exam table where she insists I sit down. I watch her slip on a pair of blue nitrile gloves before pulling an individually-packaged syringe and needle out of a drawer.

It's the sight of the needle that puts what I'm doing into perspective. I can feel my palms sweating as I make a fist and exhale slowly.

I've never had blood drawn before. Markee was so excited for her phlebotomy classes included in her medical training Placement; she would get such a kick out of this if she saw me now. I inhale courage—if she can do it, then so can I.

I grit my teeth as Rhett secures a rubber tie around my upper arm. "It'll be okay, Soph. It's not bad at all. I've done it dozens of times."

Dozens? I cringe. "If that's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't."

Rhett grins, patting my arm before stepping away to allow Dr. Tabb access.

The tip of the needle glints as she inserts it into a bottle labeled heprin. I look away before she pulls it out again, instead focusing on the chipped wall paint.

I feel her fingers tapping the inside of my elbow and it releases something buried deep in the recesses of my mind.

Then, Luke is beside me, slipping his hand into mine. My eyes meet his wordlessly.

"Little pinch," Dr. Tabb warns, but I flinch anyway when the cold metal bites into my arm. I try to focus on Luke's face, on his hand squeezing mine, or the circles he rubs with his thumb. Anything but the thought of my blood being sucked out.

And just like that, it's over, and I have some gauze and a bandage. A glance at Dr. Tabb reveals her loading my blood-filled vials into a machine.

"Thank you Sophie," Rhett says, handing me a waterskin. Luke releases my hand as I drink, and my skin mourns it's absence.

"If you will," Dr. Tabb hums, motioning for me to stand and follow her through a set of double doors.

She leads us to a room where a long desk takes up majority of the space. There are countless notebooks, textbooks, and two ancient computers sitting atop the worn desk. But that isn't a the most notable thing about the room.

One entire wall is made of glass. I approach the clear partition, seeing through to the other side. "There are three different rooms," I point out. "What are they for?"

Dr. Tabb hums, nodding the the one in front of me. "This is where they observed the infected macaques as they went through trials." I walk along the wall, my fingers tracing the smooth surface. "The next one is where they kept the control group. They preferred to compare them side-by-side. Literally." She chuckles.

When I reach the last room, my blood runs cold. There is a massive crack in the glass—the four-inch-thick glass.

My eyes follow the sharp line up the wall until it meets the others in a splintering arc, as if something pummeled into it from the other side. The barred door on the far wall of the room is dented. I lick my dry lips.

"This is the last room that ever contained a macaque," Dr. Tabb says. But her voice is far away. Instead, my mind replays echoes of the past. Of how the aggressive primates violently escaped the laboratory.

How the Skinwalkers were born.

"Any moment now," Dr. Tabb says, her foot tapping a staccato.

But whatever we're waiting on, we don't have to wait long, The door into the first room bangs open.