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think.” I started to get out of the car, but with him standing over me I couldn’t. He didn’t realize how hard it would be for me to haul my unbending torso over to the passenger seat. “Um, I need to get out and go around. Sorry.”
    “Oh, sure.” He stepped back. I sidled past him. Comprehension dawned on his face. “It’s that brace, right? Must be hard to move in that thing. I should’ve realized.”
    “It’s okay.” Talking straight out about it like this made me nervous. I glanced up at his face, dreading the inevitable look of disdain and pity.
    Instead, he looked mildly interested. “How long have you had it?”
    “Two years.” I swallowed hard, trying to act like this was normal. Today had hit a new high in abnormal. “My spine is curving wrong, and this is supposed to stop it before it gets too bad.”
    “Can’t you just take it off?”
    I wish. “I have to wear it twenty-three hours a day until they’re certain I’ve stopped growing,” I said. “If I don’t, it could really mess me up.”
    “If I hadn’t seen it, I never would’ve guessed you wore one,” he said, walking around the car to open the door for me. “You carry it off like it’s nothing.”
    “Really?” My nervousness drained away in surprise. “I feel so stiff.”
    “You move like a cat,” he said. “All grace and power. I guess nothing can change that.”
    “Thanks.” I ducked into the car so he wouldn’t see the deep flush that traveled from my heart to heat my neck and face.
    I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep after all that had happened, but I must’ve nodded off after we hit the road. I woke to see that we were on the 5 freeway, just a few miles from Burbank.
    “Hey, sleepy,” Caleb said. “Did you know you snore?”
    I straightened and stretched. “Are you sure I wasn’t purring?” I brought the seatback up to its fully locked and upright position. Caleb must’ve reclined it during the drive so I could sleep more comfortably. The clock read 5:46 a.m.
    He threw a manila folder onto my lap. The label read: “Grey, Desdemona.”
    My stomach plunged. Of course worldly thief-boy had found it.
    “You found it in the trunk?” he asked.
    “Yeah,” I said, very quietly.
    “You could’ve shown it to me, you know.”
    “But it’s a file on me!” I sputtered. “I thought my life was mine, private. But they’ve been following me, making notes, planning to take me down like I’m some rare animal for their zoo. It’s just such a . . . a . . .”
    “Violation,” he said. “I get it.”
    “Yeah, that’s it.” The buzzy lump in my stomach settled a bit at his words.
    “I’m sorry.” He kept his eyes on the road, but he reached over and took my hand. “It’s a lot to take in.”
    “No shit,” I said. I wasn’t big on swearing, but right now it felt necessary. And he was flustering me. Should I interlace my fingers with his or move my hand away? “That’s my exit coming up—Olive Avenue.” I moved my hand to point at the big green sign. “Get off there and turn left.”
    “Got it.” He cast a sideways glance at me. “Who’s this guy in the file they talk about, the one who walked you through the park? Your boyfriend?”
    “It’s not safe to read while driving.”
    “Just answer the question.”
    I laughed. “Jake Peters my boyfriend? No way.”
    “I don’t know. He sounds interested in you, even in Lazar’s bad handwriting.” He moved us into the right lane. “It says you ran away from him. Did you guys have an argument or something?”
    “Not exactly.” I didn’t want to revisit those moments with Jake.
    “But he put his arms around you, right? Something like that?” He looked at me again, then focused on the road as we took the off-ramp.
    “It’s no big deal,” I said. “He just, yeah. He grabbed my waist. Not a good idea with me, you know, because of . . .”
    “The brace.” His voice hardened, almost angry, protective. “What did he say to