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Life drawing, my ass. This is a still life.
It’s the eyes. The eyes are all wrong. They’re nothing like the eyes I’ve been creating with the aid of my mother’s software.
Adam’s eyes pulse with possibilities.
These eyes … well, they’re granules of graphite on recycled wood product.
Don’t think about it.
I start to erase the left eye, but suddenly I picture the dog-eared poster on the art room wall: “Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.”
I turn to a new page, tear it out, and write Aislin a quick note.
I put the paper by her pillow. She’s kicked off her blankets, so I tuck them around her chin. Her cheek looks like an overripe plum, purple-black and swollen.
I stash my sketchbook in a drawer.
Then I flee for the safety of Adam.
– 20 –
I settle into my workstation. A shaft of sunlight slices the air. The twinkling ficus tree has dropped a leaf onto my keyboard. A couple of workers glance up when I appear, then quickly return to their monitors.
I enter my password. Click, click, tap, tap.
I can type again. Two hands, ten fingers.
Adam materializes.
He is a good-looking guy, Adam. Very good-looking.
Apparently, the other workers think so, too. They stare, as if hypnotized, at his hovering form.
“I want her job,” someone murmurs.
I glance over, and, in perfect sync, all gazes return to their respective monitors. I am, after all, Terra
Spiker’s daughter: Eye contact is not an option.
Terra Spiker, who’s apparently capable of anything.
I wiggle the fingers of my right hand. My perfect, pain-free fingers.
They were trying to save my life. They did save my life.
If they hadn’t cut corners, ignored the FDA, I wouldn’t be here.
Wouldn’t I do the same thing for someone I love? For Aislin?
Yep. In a heartbeat.
But would I have kept it a secret from her, a secret she has to hear from some stranger?
Solo’s not a stranger, some part of my brain protests. But he is, of course. I know virtually nothing about him, except that he hates my mother.
Click, click. I focus on the monitor.
I realize that Adam’s eyes—which, yes, happen to be the color of Solo’s, which, yes, is just a coincidence—aren’t as lifelike as I’d remembered.
