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strength to claw my way back to stability. I won’t show him any weakness, any glimmer of emotion.
    I won’t let him take my purpose away.
    â€œI understand,” I reply coolly. “But I’m fine. Really.”
    He leans back in his chair, studying me. “You know, most trainees receive Conditioning from time to time. There’s no shame in needing help. If anything
is
bothering you, you can come to me. Please remember that.”
    I exhale softly. I promised myself, when I started my training, that I wouldn’t rely on medical treatments unless I truly needed to. Maybe it’s reckless, but I want to prove that I can handle this on my own. “Thank you.” I start to stand.
    â€œThere is one more thing,” he says, and I freeze. His tone is casual, but the look in his eyes is suddenly sharp and intent.“Yesterday, after school, you were seen talking to a young man. Steven Bent.”
    I sit down. The inside of my chest suddenly feels hollow. How did he find out about that so quickly? Was I seen leaving the school with Steven? “Yes,” I reply, as calmly as I can, and remind myself that I’ve done nothing wrong. Yet.
    â€œI want you to stay away from that boy.” His voice is flat. It’s an order, plain and simple.
    My jaw drops. It takes me a moment to find my voice. “Why?”
    â€œBecause …” He stops, breathing in slowly, as if reminding himself to be patient. “Because it would be better for you not to get involved with someone like him.”
    â€œThat’s not an explanation.”
    â€œIt’s complicated. I can’t share all the details.”
    My teeth grind together. Before I can stop myself, the words burst out of me. “Why is everyone against Steven? What did he do?”
    His face tenses. He averts his gaze, and a shadow passes over his expression. “Please understand, it’s not that I’m against him. Far from it. It’s just …” His features sag. He looks suddenly, profoundly weary, the lines in his face deeper, like grooves carved into wood. “He is a very troubled young man.”
    The words puzzle me. Of course Steven is troubled, but doesn’t that make it all the more important for someone to listen to him? To help him? And how does Dr. Swan know anything about Steven, anyway? Surely, the director of IFEN has bigger things to worry about than the problems of one high school boy.
    I realize I’m fiddling with the cuff of my robe and clasp my hands together. “He has the collar. That prevents any violent outbursts, doesn’t it? Surely, just talking to him—”
    â€œEven with all the controls in place, he’s too unstable. He’s an unusual case.”
    â€œWhy?”
    The light from the window dims, growing muted as a cloud passes in front of the sun. His eyes slip shut. “There was a tragic case, ten years ago. Seven children were kidnapped by a man named Emmett Pike. The authorities tracked Pike down, but he shot himself before they could arrest him. Do you remember?”
    â€œI think so.” I was very young when it happened. “The children were killed, weren’t they?”
    A nod. “Their bodies were discovered in the woods, decapitated. The heads were never found.”
    A thin chill slides through me like a razor. I remember now. When I was little, I spent more than one night lying awake, thinking about those children, wondering about those missing heads. My dreams were haunted by filmy, dead eyes staring in at me from the window.
    Dr. Swan pours more water from the decanter. “Not all of them were killed, however,” he says. “There was one survivor.”
    A wire tightens in my chest.
    â€œPike was a sadist. A man with a streak of creative depravity. And he liked children. He liked to play with them.” He sips. “Steven was kept in a basement for six months. Even with all you’ve seen during your