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When Cole says Rafael’s name, it sounds like he’s bitten into something bitter and wants to spit it out. “No, Rafael didn’t call. But Mae works at a restaurant and has a shift this afternoon. It might be an easy way to meet her and establish contact—less threatening than showing up at her house.”
“It’s a plan. You coming with me?”
“I think it’d be better for you to be alone, but I’ll be close by.”
“Fair enough.” I can handle this. I can.
But by the time he drops me off at the café I’m a raging bundle of nerves.
I sit in a booth, nervously tapping on my plate until I’m hit with a sudden longing for Fia. I adjust my sunglasses, then fold my hands in my lap.
I put my elbow on the table and lean my chin against it. Mae, Mae, Mae, I think. Where are you, Mae? I want to talk to you. I feel like an idiot, sending out thoughts to the café when I have no idea if she’s even here. What if she didn’t show up for her shift today? What if it’s the wrong Mae Rubio?
Someone sits across from me with a huff. “Will you stop it? You’re giving me a headache with all that shouting. It’s creepy.”
I sit up straight and smile. “Mae?”
“No, the other mind reader you’ve been screaming at for the last thirty minutes of my shift. What’s your problem? And how do you know about me?” She sounds young, but with a hard edge.
“I’m Amy.” I hold my hand out straight, but she ignores it, so I drop it and fiddle with my cutlery.
“Wonderful, Amy. That explains everything.”
“I know about you because I work for a group dedicated to protecting women like us.”
“Like us?” She’s quiet for a little bit, then she snorts. “No reaction. Obviously you are not like me.”
“No, not exactly. I’m not a Reader, I’m a Seer. I see things before they happen.”
I gasp as a glass of ice water is thrown in my face.
Mae laughs. “Guess you didn’t see that coming.”
I fumble for my napkin, knocking a spoon or fork off the table with a metallic clatter that makes me cringe. “It doesn’t work like that. I don’t see everything before it happens, just like you don’t hear every thought anyone ever has.”
“Pretty close,” she says, and I’m surprised to hear a tinge of—sadness? Wistfulness? “Though I can’t figure you out. You haven’t had one snarky thought about me. Most straight girls think mean things the second they see me. You aren’t going to comment on my hair or my clothes? What about my boobs? No boob judgery? What are you, a robot?”
I push my sunglasses to the top of my head. “I tend not to care what people look like.”
“Oh.” She sounds deflated. “Sorry.” She sips, and then a cup clinks down. “So, what are you doing here?”
“You’re going to get—or may have already gotten—an offer to go to a special school for girls. You should know what you’re dealing with.”
I lean back and think—details, the few insights I have from visions, memories. The night I overheard the teachers talking about how to keep various girls under control. The bruises all over Fia’s body I didn’t know about until Eden told me. When Mr. Keane personally threatened to kill me if I messed up.
He would have done it. Still would, given the chance. I have no doubt.
Mae lets out a long breath. “Well. That was a lot of information.”
“They’ve already trapped too many girls, stolen too many futures.” I wait expectantly for her to ask how to get away from Keane and stay unnoticed.
“How do they get girls to do it? They’re targeting psychics and mind readers. How do they fool them into working for them?”
I frown, taken aback. I hadn’t planned on getting into this much explanation. Cole said to scare her away. “Well, not everyone is as skilled as you. I had no idea anything was wrong with the school for years.” Fia always knew. I should have paid more attention. They’d destroyed her before I even figured out I should worry. “It’s not like they start out most girls with assassinations. It’s little things. And they pay really well.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. At least that’s what I heard. The school is prestigious. My aunt was thrilled to send us. And then
