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the troubled countenance of someone in search of something.”
    Way to keep it nice and vague, I thought. But I couldn’t help myself. I took the bait. “Something?” I said, daring her to convince me of “something.” Anything.
    “Truth. Purpose. Comfort.” She smiled. “Light.”
    “All four, or is this multiple choice?”
    “In these dark times, we are each in need of something,” she said. “Whatever it is you seek, Prophet can provide it. You only have to ask.”
    I’d had enough. “You know what I want? I want youFollowers—and I mean this in the nicest way—to leave me alone. I didn’t come to you looking for answers to my problems, and I never wear white, so you’re wasting your time with me.”
    “I think you should reconsider,” Rachel said, but now her voice was cold, nearly threatening. She still had not moved out of my way. The feel of the soap drying inside my gloves was getting to be unbearable, and the heat inside me, flickering in my chest like one of those birthday candles that won’t blow out, was waking up, starting to pulse again, to cook my blood. I needed to get out of there. Was no place in this school safe?
    I tried to ease past her, but suddenly Rachel’s hand was on my arm. Her smile was gone, but her teeth still showed, as did the white around her muddy irises. Her lips peeled back from her teeth like strips of dried fruit. The lighting in here really was terrible.
    “You have something Prophet wants. You will come to him, or you will die when the storm arrives and the sixth seal is opened completely. You will suffer and die with the rest of the unbelievers, and then you will burn in hell forever. When you deny the Word of Rance Ridley Prophet, you deny the Word of God!”
    I jerked my arm, trying to shake her loose, but she was on me like a barnacle.
    “Let. Go,” I said, the words barely making it past my clenched teeth.
    She ignored me. “ Cynic .” She spat the word, and I do mean spat. Spots of wetness actually flecked my cheek. I used my free hand to wipe them away, shaking with rage.
    The heat collected inside me, concentrated in the centerof my chest. It smoldered in my heart, an ember that would burst into flame and consume me from the inside out. At least, that’s what it felt like. I tasted metal. There was a scent coming off me, like burning wires and ozone. Like the moment before a storm cracks the sky wide open.
    Get a hold of yourself, Mia. Deep breaths. Happy thoughts. Zen state —
    “The Day of Reckoning is at hand, and when it arrives you will burn with the rest of the cynics who refused to heed Prophet’s warning,” Rachel said. “The time is coming and soon. You will suffer and you will burn and your ashes will be cast into darkness! You will—”
    The lounge door swung open.
    In walked the girl in black, like she’d been waiting for the right moment.
    A slow smile curled at the corners of her red lips. Her finger twisted a lock of her dark hair. If anyone was the antithesis of a Follower, it was this girl, clad in black that clung to her curves like paint; boot heels sharp enough to commit murder.
    Her eyes lit on Rachel’s hand. The hand that was still gripping my arm. The girl’s smile stayed in place, but there was nothing friendly about it. There was glassy darkness in her eyes, like mirrors pointed at a starless night. Whatever Rachel saw in those eyes, she must not have liked it. She released me and finally stepped back.
    “You’re one of them ,” Rachel said. I thought she was talking to the girl in black, but when I glanced at her I saw her eyes looking at me with clear accusation. I didn’t even know who “them” were.
    Rachel and the girl faced off. I was reminded of a naturedocumentary I’d seen, stags ready to lock antlers over a doe. I felt like the doe.
    “Is this Follower bothering you?” the girl in black asked me.
    “Oh, um …” The answer was a resounding yes, but for some reason I couldn’t admit the truth.