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this bad.
    But it does.
    She’s not Magdalena.
    She’s. Not. Her .
    I fucking knew it!
    I shut my laptop and move it off my lap before I end up throwing it. Okay, I’m not
     shaken. I’m angry as all hell.
    That girl is a baby . A consciousness that has been alive in a human body for no more than three months.
     Life was forced on her, and now an identity that isn’t hers is being shoved down her
     throat. What the fuck was Lei Heaton thinking?
    No, scratch that. Dr. Allen is a bigger fool. I wonder if he even asked her before
     transferring her from a computer to a human body. Had her choice fucking mattered
     at all?
    The girl was a pawn, trapped between the egotistical desires of two powerful men.
     One had wanted to prove how far he could go — the other had been too weak to let his daughter rest in peace.
    And they both expected me to hand her over? Give her to a man with enemies that would
     do anything to get her and the technology inside her?
    I stop my train of thought right there. What’s being done to her is beginning to enrage
     me. Deimos enraged isn’t good for anyone. Trust me on this.
    She was born inside a computer.
    Holy shit. I rub my forehead and focus on what matters. Dr. Allen wants to help her.
    “Magdalena Heaton was already dead. Sapphire… Sapphire was beginning to live.”
    I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. Hard. Dr. Allen had stated that he’d had
     no choice but to hand her over. But why not run away with her? Wouldn’t that be more
     humane than forcing her into this?
    Then again, Lei Heaton’s reach went far enough to not only know about the Adelphi
     Organization, but for him to know about me . Dr. Allen got my identity from him. Where else would he have gotten it from? Life
     on the run away from a man like Lei Heaton would be a constant hell. There would be
     nowhere to stay for long. Always hiding.
    Nobody is giving her a chance to decide what her life should be. She’s expected to
     step into the shoes and life of another woman.
    And now her style makes sense to me. I think it had from the beginning, fueling my
     suspicions, but I needed the hard proof to except it. That isn’t the type of clothes
     Magdalena would’ve worn. It’s what she likes.
    Her name is Sapphire.
    But is it? Or had she decided to go by something else after being born — waking up — what the hell do I even call it?
    It’s a lot easier to think of her as Sapphire than it was trying to call her Magdalena. It fits. Suits her.
    “I think there’s something wrong with Ms . Heaton.”
    I jump to my feet and face Gage. “What do you mean?”
    He looks over his shoulder toward the back of the plane. When he faces me once more,
     there’s no denying what I see.
    One of my toughest agents is worried.
    I take off, practically running. “Where is she?”
    Gage is right behind me. “She locked herself in the bedroom after take-off. She says
     she’s fine, but she won’t open the door to anyone.”
    I stop listening at that point. My focus is all about one thing: I need to get into
     that bedroom and make sure she’s alright.
    I don’t bother trying the handle once I’m in front of the door. Gage already told
     me it’s locked. Knocking softly, I lean forward so that my mouth is inches from the
     door. “It’s me. Deimos. Are you alright in there?”
    A few seconds pass and there’s this odd sense of panic rising in me .
    “I’m fine.”
    “Can you open the door?” I place my hand on the knob, waiting.
    “I rather be alone.”
    There’s a tremor in her tone, and that does it for me. I’m getting in that room and
     finding out what’s wrong with her, even if it means taking the door off its hinges.
    “I get that,” I say in my most understanding voice possible. “But can you please open
     the door? For me?” I have no idea what makes me add that last part, but it works.
     The sound of the door being unlocked makes me exhale with relief. The door opens a
     little, and a big,