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  John didn’t walk away. He took a long drink from his water bottle and stood next to me, almost like he sensed my panic and didn’t want to leave. I looked up at him and began rubbing my arms, mostly to hide them.

  “Don’t touch it. It will just make it worse,” he said.

  I felt my cheeks turn bright red. I realized he knew all about stress-induced rashes. I rested my eyes on his as I tried to slow my breathing.

  “Thanks,” I said sincerely, surprising both John and myself. It felt good to look him full in the face for once instead of the usual sidelong glances. I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees, trying to disguise the extent of the problem.

  Oh my God. That’s hot. She is so…

  I blinked. It took a moment to realize what had just happened. He hadn’t said it out loud, but I had heard him clearly. I sat up, realizing I had inadvertently given him a view of cleavage. I looked in his eyes, and again I knew we felt that connection to each other. All the panic I felt a moment ago moved to the background.

  Talk to her. Just talk to her.

  “Ford! You coming or what?” Pete yelled. Left with no other choice, John turned and walked to the court.

  What the hell had happened? Why could I read his mind again? I didn’t want it to be over so quickly.

  Just like that, John began to play. I stood up and walked over to his court, wanting to be close to him.

  He knew I was watching. I went right up to the sidelines, rash forgotten. It was his serve and he slammed it. I could tell he was showing off for me. But Pete seemed more motivated, running harder and making some crazy shots. John double-faulted and then double-faulted again.

  First I saw the coach come over to watch the match, and then a few other players from the boys’ team. When Pete began to win games, the girls drifted over and were allowed to watch. The coach shushed his team when they clapped and yelled “Go, Pete!” at their number one player. When Pete took every game of the first set, you could tell something momentous was happening.

  At the break John toweled off and caught his breath, keeping his eyes to the ground. I saw him look for me out of the corner of his eye when he lifted his water bottle to take a short drink. And then, like a floodgate, he was completely open to me.

  One more set like this, and that will officially be rock bottom. And in front of her. Definition of a shit show. I should be handing out toilet paper.

  I half laughed out loud at that.

  Did she just laugh? At me?

  John walked back to the baseline. Okay. Now. Turn it on. Put her out of your mind. But there’s no way in hell she’s going to see me lose.

  He served, Pete returned, and John slammed it into the net. It didn’t look like things were going to change. John’s head was slowly being taken over by the game, though, and I became just another nagging problem in his headspace.

  Probably 50k invested in my game by my hardworking parents and this guy will probably get a better scholarship than me. I’ve got to stop the chatter. I’ve got to stop caring so much about tennis, about this girl, about every stupid thing. Just play like I give a shit.

  It was fascinating. John appeared completely calm on the outside. I couldn’t believe he was tearing himself up inside and the only evidence was the awful game he was playing.

  This shoulder is fucking up my swing, fucking up my rhythm. I should just take a year off. Better yet, I should quit. The schools think I’m damaged goods anyway. Dammit.

  “Wasn’t he supposed to be the next Texas Regional champion?” one asshole muttered jokingly for everyone to hear.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d never done it with something that was already in motion, but it was worth a try. It took a few more lost points for John, but I finally felt the rhythm of the game and connected with the energy of the ball.

  Pete returned John’s serve and it was a solid shot, but at the last second I veered it into the net. I had done it. And then I did it again.

  Pete began to teeter out of his zone, shaking his head, hitting the racket on the tops of his feet. The coach didn’t say a word. It seemed like everyone was holding their breath. Pete served and it looked like it was good, but I angled it low and the ball grazed the top of the net. I felt everyone around me blink.

  Ten thousand hours of tennis and I’ve never seen a ball do that.

  John won the game on the next shot, and Pete’s confidence took a hit. There was a major momentum shift after that and John got his head together. His mind was beautifully blank.

  I pushed off the chain-link fence and straightened, now knowing he would win. I left before the match was over, my rash completely gone and a gigantic smile on my face.

  The impact jolted me off my high, putting my consciousness squarely back on Cesar Chavez Street. The car that had rear-ended mine reversed and, tires squealing, peeled around me, taking off into the distance. The light turned green and I drove, pulling over at a point where the street quieted. I got out of my car and was walking back to inspect the damage when a white SUV pulled up behind me and stopped. Dammit.

  “You okay, miss?” A man maybe in his thirties, suit jacket missing and sleeves rolled up, jumped out and walked right up next to me to look at the back of my car.

  “I’m fine.” I tried to keep annoyance out of my voice since I didn’t want him to call the police.

  “Looks good. No visible damage.” He said this officially, like he was reporting it.

  He turned to me and sized me up as if checking that I was unhurt, and then he began to back away, returning to his car. “Glad you’re okay.” With that, he got back in his car, and I noticed another man sitting in the passenger seat. The car pulled out, expertly made a U-turn on the busy street, and disappeared as fast as it had shown up.

  Relieved they were gone, I stood on the side of the road and looked at the back of my car, grateful that pecan trees were shading me. I was surprised to see there was visible damage. The back wasn’t level anymore.

  It dawned on me that I now had an excuse to go where I’d thought about going. I wanted to see my dad. Kendra handled stuff like this, or at least she had someone she could delegate to. I could drive downtown—it wasn’t quite five o’clock, and everyone at my dad’s office stayed until late. While I dropped in to see Kendra, I could talk to Novak, away from the house. If I felt the usual comfort and affection, it would assure me there was no need to let any of what Angus had said get under my skin.

  My hands shook slightly from the aftershocks of the minor accident as I drove. For a moment I fantasized about telling Novak what had just happened at the tennis court. It was the second time now. At best he’d probably say I needed to do a better job keeping it under control—that these spurts were dangerous without any guidance. Worst case, my punishment would be more severe.

  But what if it wasn’t a run-of-the-mill ability? Of all the rumors and stories I’d heard about our people since childhood, hearing someone else’s thoughts was never mentioned. Novak obviously didn’t want me cultivating abilities right now, but what if I told him and it turned out it was unusual or even special?

  But there was a problem—it was only with one person, and I didn’t understand why it happened when it did. The high I’d just had—oh my God. Minutes before, I’d felt lost, and then it happened out of nowhere, as though reading his mind was something important I needed to know I could do. I’d entered into such a state of clarity.

  I wasn’t stupid—it was terrible timing to confide in Novak. Allegations of insider trading had tarnished his image, and now he had our arrests to contend with. Novak himself had escaped any official charges so far, but it had put the wheels of Relocation in motion. Though everything had really started when that magazine article came out.

  Mostly though, Angus’s comment that I wasn’t the right daughter played in the back of my mind. Still, I wanted to see my dad, even if now wasn’t the time to tell him what had happened.

  I drove up Congress toward the Capitol, finally making i
t to his grand building. I handed my car keys to a valet and saw my dad’s Aston Martin in his spot. I was in luck—he was in town. There was no name marking his parking place, just a plaque with the company name: Sovereign Venture Partners.

  A visitor’s badge stuck to my chest, the elevator transported me to the world of Sovereign. Their offices were located in the penthouse on the fifty-sixth floor. I was nervous. I rarely saw my dad, but I didn’t think I should feel like I was trying to get an audience with the pope.

  The reception-area furnishings were stark white on a gray concrete floor, and the room had floor-to-ceiling windows with city views. No one was seated at reception. I perched on a leather chair and waited for someone to walk out, not sure what to do. The office was quiet, like my dad preferred. Phones didn’t even ring here—they just blinked. I stared at my dad’s collection of six Gursky photographs he’d bought at auction, beating out the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

  “Excuse me? Julia?” Paul’s mother, who worked closely with my father, entered the room.

  I stood up, smoothing my tennis skirt, feeling grossly out of place. “I’m here to see Kendra?” Why did my voice sound apologetic?

  “She’s occupied at the moment,” Anne said curtly. She stood looking at me like she wasn’t going to encourage me to come into her house. It was a blank-faced Yes? like you’d give to a stranger.

  I was annoyed. I’d have to use my trump card. I caught myself before I said, Is my Dad in? I knew he was in. “I’d like to see my dad.” Anne’s eyes flared. She had always been cordial—everyone had—so why was she acting like I was a trespasser? I hoped I was just being paranoid to think that somehow Novak’s punishment opened the door for everyone to show their true feelings about me.

  “I’ll be back,” was all Anne said, and she pivoted in three-inch heels and disappeared beyond the reception area.

  I waited for another fifteen minutes, growing more agitated. After playing with my phone for a bit, I got up and walked to the edge of the agarwood reception desk. I could see a bit beyond and down a hallway. A door opened, and I took half a step back.

  “What do you want for dinner?”

  “Let’s get Jim to pick up something around seven. No more barbecue.”

  “Ha!”

  I edged closer and watched a man walk down the hallway, leaving the door open behind him. I saw a group of about ten people—a mix of men and women I’d never seen before—working at a long conference table. Boxes were scattered around the room, laptops out.

  Remembering the probability of security cameras, I quickly sat down on the closest chair. A woman walked out into the hallway with her phone.

  “Hi. This is Helen Jacks from Pricewaterhouse Coopers, returning your call.”

  There was an outside firm here. Auditors. I had no idea the SEC was this far along with their investigation. That had to be it, because outsiders didn’t get involved in Sovereign operations.

  I realized I should leave. The moment I stood, people swept into the room in a sudden burst, rushing past me toward the elevator. It was security dragging an agitated young man. They practically lifted him off the floor as they walked on either side of him. It all happened so fast. Kendra walked behind them, her face blank.

  The man was shouting back to Kendra as security hauled him to the elevator. “Whatever this is and whoever they are, you need to get away from them. You have to call your parents right now!” The doors to the elevator closed, and the office was startlingly silent.

  The auditors had come out of the conference room to see what was happening. It took me a second to register Novak at the edge of the room. Everyone watched as Novak walked calmly over to Kendra.

  In the lowest voice imaginable, he said next to her ear, “You ever bring that in here again, it’s over. This won’t work.” He leaned back to look at her and placed a finger under her chin to force her to look at him. Novak’s eyes practically glowed, and you could see every vein standing out in his neck. Kendra looked into Novak’s eyes and gave a very small nod. I noticed for the first time that her features looked uncannily similar to those of my family. She turned and left the reception area, everyone watching her.

  Novak saw me. His face registered what looked like annoyance for a millisecond before he covered it. He walked over to me and gave me a quick greeting, kissing me on both cheeks. I was so unsettled, I forgot to kiss him in return.

  “I hear you came by for Kendra. Should I be jealous?” he teased.

  “I got into an accident.” He looked at me quizzically. “It was minor, but since I was close by I thought I would talk to Kendra about what to do with my car.” I felt relieved that I had an excuse for why I was here. Clearly I was anything but welcome, and Novak couldn’t be happy about what I’d just witnessed.

  “I’m glad you’re all right.” Had I said I was all right? “Now is not the time, but why don’t you email her and she’ll take care of things? I have a plane to catch.”

  Suddenly there were voices in the hall—presumably from the conference room—and before I knew it I was being whisked out of the office and put in front of an elevator. My dad pushed the button, but I realized it was Anne’s hand on my back, guiding me out. What the hell?

  The elevator arrived. I automatically stepped in and had the presence of mind to arrange my face into calm. I turned and faced my dad’s beautiful, easygoing grin.

  “Bye, princess,” he said just as the doors closed. My stomach dropped as the elevator made its sudden descent.

  All night I was convinced Novak wore a mask and I’d seen it slip, and that at heart I was insignificant to him. I pictured him delivering the bad news that I wasn’t invited on Relocation.

  I hadn’t thought I’d be able to get to sleep, but I must have nodded off at some point. My alarm went off and I had one blissful moment of not knowing who or where I was.

  I couldn’t help but be disturbed by everything that had happened at the office, especially the scene with the man who was presumably Kendra’s former friend. I knew I shouldn’t feel one way or the other about him or Kendra’s family….It was just that these things always played out the same way. One by one, the outsiders Novak let in would immerse themselves in Novak’s world. They’d cut off their family and friends. Eventually they’d lose their sense of boundaries with Novak, he’d fire them, and they’d be left devastated. From the gossip I’d heard, they had trouble recovering, as if Novak were a drug and nothing ever felt quite that good again.

  Novak called them lost souls—the people bold enough to try to insert themselves in our world. He believed they were reincarnated family members who wanted to make their way back to us but couldn’t. None of us really believed that. It was just sad what regular people would do to be near him.

  In the shower I realized that in the light of day things didn’t seem as bad as they had last night. I was being self-centered—the terrible vibe in the office could have been attributed to the scene with Kendra, not to mention the auditors. It had nothing to do with Novak disliking me. I knew him. It was bad timing when I showed up. Clearly.

  I knew my number one priority should be to obey Novak’s rules so I could make my way back to the safety of the group. I would tell him what had happened at the tennis courts once we left Austin.

  All I wanted was that feeling again. I kept thinking about what Angus said—that if he had gifts, he wanted to know what they were. But if I wanted to be careful, I needed to stop even the smallest things I was doing. It was getting difficult to hide all the broken and bent objects in the trash. I definitely needed that release, though, and I was confident I could hide those small transgressions. But it was a slippery slope. I had to stop, I decided.

  When I was ready to go downstairs, I experienced the familiar nervousness. The last couple of weeks, I’d run into Victoria only once. This morning, however, she was in the kitchen. I slowed, thinking maybe I could leave through the front door instead. But it would look worse if she caught me avoiding her. And she o
bviously knew I was there.

  When I entered the kitchen, Victoria looked over her shoulder at me. “Would you like some breakfast? I was trying to find juice.” She turned back to the mammoth Sub-Zero.

  “No, thank you. Thank you, though.” I hovered, unsure of whether I should try to make conversation.

  “How is your new school?” she asked.

  “It’s fine. Strange.” I hated these polite conversations. I felt my cheeks turn bright red—my stupid tell. I turned, about to head to the garage. I would just take my damaged car. I hadn’t bothered to contact Kendra.

  Both Victoria and I felt Liv coming at the same moment. I sensed that Victoria wanted me to leave before Liv and I crossed paths. But I didn’t move. It was a minor rebellion, but a rebellion just the same.

  Liv rounded the corner into the kitchen. She stopped short when she saw me and asked in a way that wasn’t quite natural, “Are you okay? I heard you were in a car accident.”

  I avoided looking at Victoria, who must have been the one to tell Liv. So at least Novak thought it significant enough to mention to Victoria.

  “I’m fine. It was minor.” I could barely bring myself to answer Liv or even look at her. It killed me to know she hadn’t stood up for me along with Angus and the boys. I realized she appeared different somehow. Messier. Happier. Prettier, if that was possible. Since Angus mentioned it yesterday, I was aware she’d been with him last night, so I knew exactly why Liv looked that way. She needed to do a better job of hiding it from her mother. The thought of Liv and Angus being together physically—I couldn’t even let myself go there.

  “Do you need a ride to school?” Liv asked, surprising me. This whole interaction was her first overture since Barton Springs. I could actually feel the bad vibes coming off Victoria when Liv offered.

  I knew I had to say no, per my agreement with Novak. And I wanted to say no. I was upset with Liv, and I was altogether ashamed of my feelings where she was concerned. Still, I wasn’t allowed in a car with my own sister?