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When I woke again, someone was rubbing my shoulder, murmuring something I couldn't make out.

With effort, I cracked open my eyes. It was Adam, pale under his tan, eyes bleary, hair standing up, like he'd been running his hands through it.

"You look like hell," I whispered, throat aching with the strain.

He let out a shaky laugh, hand tightening on my shoulder.

"Not going to tell me I look worse?" I whispered.

"No." He bent down, lips brushing my forehead. "You look great."

I squeezed my eyes shut against a different ache. I wished he'd joked back. And I was glad he hadn't.

"Guess Dr. Lee found an antidote, huh?" I said.

"He always had it. We just needed to know which poison it was. He figured it out from your symptoms and had it ready when we arrived. It was close, though. Too close."

I craned my head to take in the room. I was in Dr. Lee's clinic in Portland.

"Paige and Lucas aren't here," he said as he straightened. "I called a few times, but they must have been out for the day. They're probably back by now. I'll go call--"

I gripped his hand as he tried to walk away. "No."

"They should know."

I shook my head. "If Dr. Lee says I'll be fine, then let them finish their vacation."

His mouth tightened. "They should know, Savannah."

"They will, when they get back." I managed a smile. "If they get mad, blame me."

Blame me.

I thought about Michael. About Claire. About that security guard. About the homeless guy.

"Savannah?" Adam leaned over me, face drawn with fresh worry.

"Just tired. Don't call them, okay?" I tightened my grip on his hand. "Just stay."

I DRIFTED OFF into nightmares. I was back on the scenic lookout with Michael. He was kissing me, telling me he wanted a third date, and over his shoulder, I could see Leah ready to push him over the cliff, and I tried to tell Michael to run, to get as far from me as he could, but he only laughed and kept kissing me.

The scene changed and I was in the sawmill with Adam, searching for Jesse. I told Adam to let me handle this, that it was my problem and he needed to get out, get away from me, but he just kept saying he'd protect me. Only he was the one who needed protecting ... from me.

I knew what happened wasn't my fault, but I felt like it was, like I should have figured out something was up with Jesse.

Leah had chosen her target perfectly. Jesse was telekinetic, so she could use her powers and I'd never be the wiser. Lucas knew him and trusted him, which was an instant stamp of approval for me. And, in life, Leah had been a deputy sheriff, meaning she could pull off even the PI parts with ease. She'd found the perfect disguise and there was no reason I shouldn't have fallen for it. No way I could have stopped her sooner. No way I could have saved Michael. But I couldn't stop thinking it.

Every time I opened my eyes, though, Adam was there. Nothing I could say would make him leave my bedside. Finally, one of the nurses must have heard us arguing about that. She came in and said she had to work on me and he couldn't be there. It'd be about an hour, so he should go get something to eat, and she'd have someone notify him when he could come back up.

I drifted off again as soon as Adam left. I couldn't rest with him gone, though. I started dreaming that Leah was in my room, and I kept screaming at myself to wake up, but I couldn't.

Rage boiled up inside me, impotent rage at Leah for everything she'd done. It roiled until it exploded and the room flashed against my eyelids. A cry of pain. A crash. Then the sound of running feet, a nurse saying "You can't be here," a voice protesting, not Leah's, but a young woman's, insisting she was a friend. The nurse hauled her out, and the dream slid away.

JESSE CAME BY, and we pieced together what had happened to him. He didn't stay long. It was awkward, because I kept thinking of him as the guy I'd worked with, only he wasn't. This was the first time I'd met the real Jesse Aanes. It felt weird talking to him now. But I was glad he was okay.

"I'M READY TO go," I announced the next afternoon as I brushed my hair. Given how long my hair was--and that I'd been tossing and turning for almost twenty-four hours--the brushing was a major chore. I figured if I could accomplish that, I was ready for anything.

"When you can stay awake for more than an hour, we'll consider it," Adam said.

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