Chapter 15

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"How do you reckon it happened?" Carson asks while I sit there in stunned silence. "How'd they make us this way?"

"I don't know," Willow answers. "My siblings all caught chicken pox over the years, but I was the odd one out. I always assumed it was luck. It never crossed my mind that someone made me like this."

I know what she means. It's hard to look back at the last seventeen years of my life and pinpoint anything that stands out. Any red flag that indicates I'd end up here someday. Other than Sam's nightmarish upbringing and my mom ignoring us or going out on the town with friends half her age, nothing stands out.

There were never any strange people showing up at our house. No visits to laboratories where they poked me with needles and attached electrodes to my scalp. No unorthodox medicine that might've given me super health. If the Takers did anything to me—to all of us—it had to have happened very early during childhood.

Carson chews on his thumbnail, his eyes darting between my face and Willow's. He lowers his hand and swallows. "Shit, they experimented on us, didn't they?"

"Not necessarily," I say. "We don't know anything for sure."

"You're doing it again," Carson says.

"Doing what?"

"Trying to protect me."

"I didn't . . ." I fade away, realizing that's exactly what I was doing.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a poor attempt at a smile. "Sorry. It's hard for me not to get prickly about things like that."

"Why?" Willow asks.

"Well, it's mostly because of my brother. He's big like the rest of my brothers and real scary-looking. Kind of like Eli, but a lot nicer."

Willow smiles. "I'm sure anyone would be nicer than Eli."

At least she can joke about him. That has to mean something, right?

"In freshman and sophomore year," Carson continues, "no one dared cross me because of my brother. I walked around school like I was invincible, which I guess I sort of was. And then junior year rolled around and it was just me and a whole bunch of guys like those ones over there." He nudges his chin in the direction of Marcus's table. "Davey was trying to look out for me all those years, but he never taught me to do that for myself."

No wonder he has serious hang-ups about people doing things for him. Where Sam was teaching me to be tough in the most horrible of ways, Carson's brothers coddled him and never gave him the chance to hone his strengths. Now that he's trying to be his own man, it must be a real blow to his ego when he's treated like he's not.

People are complicated in ways I never considered. "I guess I owe you an apology."

To my surprise, Willow reaches out and smacks Carson on the head. He yelps, pressing a hand to the back of his head. "What the hell?"

"You're being a jerk, Carson," she chides. "When someone does something nice for you, you don't guilt trip them for it."

Now he looks genuinely sorry. "I wasn't trying to—"

"It's okay," I interrupt, hoping to spare us both further embarrassment. "Let's not lose focus. We have more important things to worry about."

I point to the countdown clock to indicate what I mean. Ten minutes left.

"I think we might have a bigger problem than that," Willow says, gesturing behind me.

Marcus is heading our way instead of over to his friends. Even though he's got my attention already, he lets out a shrill whistle that's every bit as obnoxious as he is. Then he cocks his finger at me, beckoning me over.

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