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What if I don’t want to do this interview?”
    “I don’t want you to do it either,” her dad said, surprising her. It was so rare that they agreed.
    Her mom let out a frustrated noise. “Nobody
wants
this, but—”
    “Why do they even want to do this interview now?” Reese asked, sitting down next to her dad. “Yesterday they didn’t want me to talk at all.”
    “International pressure, I think,” her dad said. “The United States is facing a lot of criticism from around the world about how they’ve been handling this Imrian situation, and it didn’t look good yesterday when that agent stopped you and David from talking. I think the government wants to set you up with this interview for PR purposes, but they’re going to control it the whole way. Even if you’re interviewed by Sophia Curtis, I doubt they’ll let you tell the truth.”
    “Then what would be the point of doing the interview? We should tell our story to Bin 42—”
    “No,” her mom snapped. “You are
not
talking to that website. That would definitely put you in danger with the government, and I won’t let you do that. I should have stopped you yesterday before you went outside.”
    “Cat—”
    She turned to her ex-husband. “We’re going to do this. We’re going to take this interview with Sophia Curtis and play along with them. I need some time to figure out what else we can do, and it can’t hurt to give them something they want.”
    “Mom—”
    “I’m not sending her into that interview without someone to advocate for her,” Rick said, ignoring Reese’s interruption.
    “I’ll be there,” Cat said.
    “I mean a media professional,” Rick said. “I’m going to call Diana Warner.”
    “Who’s that?” Cat asked.
    “She’s a media consultant. She’ll train Reese on how to talk to Sophia. She’ll go over the content of the interview in advance, and she’ll be on top of Sophia’s producers to make sure Reese is presented in the best possible light.”
    Reese asked, “What about David? If we do this he needs to get this training too.”
    Her dad nodded. “Sure. He’s part of the deal.”
    Her mom seemed doubtful. “You think this media consultant can make any headway against Highsmith’s agenda? I don’t know.”
    “We have to try it,” her dad said.
    Her mom nudged the coffee table away from the couch and sat down on its edge, facing Reese and her dad. “Fine. We’ll hire the media consultant. Are you okay with that, honey?”
    Reese glanced from her mom to her dad and crossed her arms. “Do I have any choice?”
    Her dad scooted toward her and put an arm around her shoulders. “I know it feels like we’re taking over here, but we’re only trying to keep you safe.”
    All of her dad opened up to her as he drew her into his embrace, and Reese was too startled to resist.
    “Your mom and I—no, I shouldn’t speak for her.
I
am really, really glad that you’re back in one piece. I don’t know what I would’ve done if we hadn’t gotten you back, sweetie.”
    Her father’s interior landscape was an unsettling combination of the familiar and the strange. His physical body—the way his muscles moved, the beat of his heart—was new to her, and she almost recoiled from the intimacy of knowing him this way. But his sense of self, his consciousness: These were indelibly stamped with a deep-rooted relatedness to Reese. He was her father. As he spoke she could barely pay attention to his words, because she was so overwhelmed by his feelings. He felt guilty. Guilty for his absences over the years. Guilty that he hadn’t been able to prevent what had happened to her. And he had a desperate fear that she would never forgive him.
    Reese had to pull away. It was too much, and she couldn’t even manage to put up her mental walls. She was shaky and sweaty as she stood up, breaking contact with her dad.
    “Reese? I’m sorry if I—”
    “Dad, I can’t—you know I can feel how you’re feeling when you