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building didn’t get used much according to Genni—and made their way back to the first floor.
    As they descended, Lys risked a question. “How many people are here?”
    “There are seven guests and ten or twelve people on staff,” Genni said. “But a few of the guests are moving tomorrow, so the number will go down.”
    “How did you meet Mr. Mason?” Lys asked. She wondered how all of these people had gotten involved with Mr. Mason and his treatment facility. Lys really wanted to know if Genni had been addicted to Pop, but she didn’t think it would be polite to ask.
    “It’s a long story,” Genni said. “Once you’re through your first few days maybe I’ll tell you about it.”
    Lys didn’t get much more than that. She tried a few more questions, but Genni dodged them. It didn’t feel like the woman was trying to be overly secretive, but she didn’t seem terribly open either.
    They moved past the front desk and into the other side of the building. Lys caught a glimpse of a large dining area to their right, but Genni kept going down the hall and through a different door.
    A round table sat in the center of the square room. Seven or eight chairs surrounded the table, and Lys saw a little kitchen off to the side.
    “There she is!” Brady’s bright voice said. “Why is it you’re always the last one to arrive?”
    Lys focused on an appropriate response. “It’s a girl thing.”
    Brady turned to the young man sitting next to him and grinned. “Told you she would be here. Nice patch, by the way.”
    “Thanks,” Lys said, brushing at her eye with her fingers. She’d traded the bandages for a tie-dye patch her dad had given her. The doctors said she could start wearing it tomorrow, but she didn’t want to wait. At least no one laughed at her, although a grin stretched across Brady’s face.
    Lys figured Brady was maybe fourteen. The new guy next to him had to be a year or two older than Lys—seventeen or eighteen. He had skin the color of ebony—darker than she had ever seen. His tall, lean figure sat with perfect posture, and he held his head with confidence. He nodded, and Lys remembered to avoid his gaze. He didn’t look nearly as paranoid as she felt, and she wondered if he was the guy who wanted to sing at the top of his lungs. The mental picture of this proper young man belting out opera almost made her laugh out loud.
    Mr. Mason walked in from the kitchen with Mark in tow.
    “Ah, Lys, good. Sit down and we’ll get started.”
    She took the seat opposite the boys. Mark and Mr. Mason sat as well, but Genni left. Lys felt a bit outnumbered.
    “Did you get some rest?” Mr. Mason asked.
    Lys nodded. “A little.”
    “I’m glad. Dinner should be out in a moment.” Mr. Mason paused. “I thought it might be nice for the three of you to get to know one another.”
    Lys glanced up at the others. She couldn’t think of a more diverse group. Where the new guy seemed very proper, Brady looked to be totally at ease. Mark sat with one arm up on the chair next to him, and Mr. Mason watched them all expectantly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to share much about herself. She didn’t know who these people were. Mr. Mason she trusted, and maybe Mark because she knew him a little, but not the others.
    “You’re an Auzie,” Brady said to Mark.
    “That’s right,” he answered. “What part of England are you from?”
    “Just north of London,” Brady said. “I lived out in the country until my mum and dad divorced a few years ago. Last summer I moved in with my mum so I could go to a better school.”
    “You a rugby player?” Mark asked.
    Brady shook his head. “Naw, my mum would never let me. You?”
    Mark shrugged. “It’s been a long time.”
    Brady sat forward. “So, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever cooked? Kangaroo?”
    Laughing, Mark shook his head. “I shouldn’t mention it at the table.”
    Everyone chuckled, and the conversation stopped as dinner arrived. Two more