“My arms are in front of me, cuffed at the wrists. A thin cord stretches across my chest. From what I can tell, it seems to be tied behind the chair I’m sitting on. Against the other wall, Turk is strapped to a metal chair, his face beaten to a pulp and purpled underneath the eyes. A huge gash marks his forehead, and a scary cut runs straight down his lips. Both are bleeding. Everything from the cool, sterile air to the seamless way the touchpads are integrated into the walls tells me I am in th...e Aeries. Plus the fact that my brother, Kyle, is standing in front of me. “Well,” he says to me. “We meet again, little sister.” He’s wearing a black suit with a crisp blue dress shirt underneath, open at the neck. No tie. His wheat-colored hair is perfectly parted. “You sound like a comic-book villain,” I say. “Cut it out.” “Me?” he says, pointing to my wig. “You’re the one who looks ridiculous.” I meet Turk’s eyes. Don’t worry, he mouths, but his words don’t make me feel any better.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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