Page 24

I would never…would I? Absolutely not. I’m neither a child nor that sloppy. Candice’s words on the descent rang in my ears. Your profile shows you are at an increased risk for DSI. What were the symptoms she’d mentioned? I’ll let that go, considering the symptoms include lowered inhibitions and heightened anger.

Lowered inhibitions would explain why I couldn’t seem to get my mind out of the gutter when it came to certain men down here. Anger would certainly have described my feelings when I found out I couldn’t leave last night.

I pressed the big silver button and leaned into the wall for support.

“What are the symptoms of DSI?”

“Symptoms of DSI can be similar to those of intoxication. These may include, but are not limited to, headaches, nausea, heightened emotions, lowered inhibitions, and occasional blackouts.”

I swallowed back the bile rising to my throat when Candice’s sickly sweet voice mentioned blackouts.

“Nope. Not buying it. This is a set up,” I said out loud, backing away from the wall. “Where would I get the spray paint?”

A knock at my door made me jump. I dropped the canister and kicked it under the bed, letting it scoot to the center of the king size behemoth. Throwing a blanket over the spots on the bed, I rushed to the entrance.

“Who is it?” I called, leaning against the door jamb with my hand covering the splotch of paint.

The door opened to reveal one of the robot staff members and a cart full of cleaning supplies and fluffy white towels. “Good afternoon, Miss Meadows. I am Pete, and I am here to clean your room.”

I stopped him with a palm against his cold metal chest, my hand turning red with the glowing light bleeding through beneath. “No thank you. But may I borrow some of these supplies and do it myself? I’m a bit uncomfortable with strangers in my room.”

The pause was interminable. I held my breath, biting my lip.

“Of course, Miss Meadows. If that is your preference, help yourself.”

I snatched the supplies off the cart with a forced smile. I went to work in a fervor the second the door closed, using the panic about the hole in my memory as fuel to scrub the evidence clean. Half an hour later and the room was spotless. Whatever the wonder cleaner was that I grabbed, it removed color from all sorts of materials.

One glance at the clock and I sighed. I had only an hour until it was time to head down to the gala. Considering someone was clearly trying to frame me for defacing my own mother’s artwork, I contemplated locking myself in my room, but I remembered the word “mandatory” being uttered. Then memories of my time with Mason brought a smile to my lips and a flush that felt like a heat wave. At least I’d be able to get to know Mason a bit better, and bonus points for not having to sit with Dad and Alyssa, making small talk. Besides, maybe I’d also find a clue as to who had vandalized Mom’s art. The why didn’t bother me so much. I didn’t exactly disagree with them, just their methods.

Time to make the most out of my date and get my mind off strange things I couldn’t explain and my possible new sleepwalking habits. If it was depth sensitivity illness, then they couldn’t exactly blame me for what I couldn’t remember, let alone control. Besides, I couldn’t imagine a scenario in which I’d do such a thing to one of Mom’s sculptures. I pushed aside Candice’s threat about stasis and instead got ready for my handsome distraction. I wasn’t about to let that woman steal this little bit of joy from me.