Ethan raises his head, the closest thing to a smile I’ve ever seen pulling at the corners of his lips. “Not red.”

“I’m not …?” Aiden says.

Ethan clasps the back of Aiden’s neck, producing a husky sound almost like a laugh. “You are not a Stray.”

Aiden’s mouth opens slowly, his expression wiped blank. Ethan squeezes and pats the back of his neck then releases him to give his full frowning attention to the changing liquid. My chest fills with air and keeps filling until I’m dizzy with it, as though my head might detach and float to the ceiling like a helium balloon.

Not a Stray.

Kitty has managed to get herself to the end of the couch, her splotchy pink face alight with hope. “So, he’s okay? He’s deactivated?”

“It would need to be clear and colourless like water to indicate Deactivation. A Shield would produce a see-through pale blue. This is clearing but the colour is much darker.” He offers it to Aiden, who takes it in his trembling hand and holds it up to the light. It is completely see-through and the colour is a perfect, shimmering, midnight blue. “Before the mutation, Assets who produced this colour reading were known as Strikers. I do not believe this has been seen since the first-generation trials.”

BROTHER

Aiden sits propped up on Nan and Pop’s bed, pillows with lace doilies stuffed behind his head. “What was I supposed to do?” He throws an arm up and winces at the movement. Sweat glistens on his chest, the bandage holding his arm like he’s about to pledge allegiance to the flag. He’s agitated, impatient, his eyes moving to the closed door, waiting for Ethan to come back and tell us it’s time to go. “She was just sitting there on the doorstep when I got here. I tried to make her go but she’s … impossible and unreasonable and …” He gives up, like the effort of describing Kitty is exhausting in itself.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pitch my forehead into my hands, chuckling at his spoken and unspoken words. Impossible, unreasonable and a bit wonderful too. Kitty’s all that and then some. I can’t help laughing, a little unhinged by my relief and disbelief and the sheer intensity of my pleasure in just being with him. A fierce, jealous pleasure in looking at him and thinking brother. My brother. Twin. Ownership and belonging mixed with the bewildering shock of what we almost lost. I want to take him home right this minute and regress, build forts and fight over the remote. I know I can’t get back any of the things we’ve missed in childhood but my hope for the future is a recklessly soaring thing.

I should rein it in. We’re not exactly home free. There’s the Proxy to return, the Executive to appease, Miriam to restore, incidents to explain, proofs to be laid on the altar. There’s probably a barrage of hideous examinations for poor Aiden to go through, but my hope is far beyond and far above these minor obstacles, already circling our future lives with Miriam, who the Proxy will have no choice but to save. Life as a family.

“What?” he says, catching my grin. His usually tidy hair’s a dishevelled mess that kind of suits him. He hasn’t shaved in days. He looks rugged and handsome with most of the blood scrubbed off and I feel weirdly proud and glad that Kitty likes him – I can tell she does. He deserves to be liked. Even though that whole thing is a messy knot of complicated with a Jamie-shaped ogre guarding the threshold, I can’t help feeling that anything’s possible.

“Evie?” he says.

“Um.” I blush and shake my head. I’m hardly going to say all that. “No jeep, then?”

He sighs. “No jeep.”

“There was definitely a jeep last time I stayed here.”

“Not any more.”

“Miriam didn’t mention selling it or anything.”

“How is, um, she?” The word “mom” ghosts in the background.

“If we get the Proxy back in time, there’s a good chance she’ll recover.” I keep my voice even and clinical and explain the Symbiosis, Miriam’s resistance, the self-defence shutdown.

Aiden’s mouth curls in sickened horror. “These people are out of their freaking minds. Poor Miriam.”

I drop my gaze. How do I tell him that if I’d just stayed out of things …?

“It’s not your fault.”

My throat gets tight and I shake my head. I don’t want to hear it. “Why did you stay here?” Change the subject. Real subtle.

He gives a weary sigh; he knows I’m dodging but doesn’t push me. “We didn’t. We bussed to North Carolina. Stayed in a roach motel for a couple of nights freaking out.”

“Then what were you doing here? I said two weeks.”

“You did the mind-meld thing.” He frowns and taps his temple. “You – you showed me the house. You showed me Jamie and the German guy and you in a – in a van and filled it with a bunch of hopeful, peaceful feelings.”

“I did?”

“Twice. Once in the night and again this morning. So we came.”

“I never did that.” My mind turns in circles. The Proxy. She did it? How could she do it without me knowing? Is she that powerful?

“When the van pulled up,” he taps his temple again, “you showed me the guys in black and filled it with danger and basically scared me half to death. You showed me hiding and waiting. A very strong impression to hide and wait. We were up there so long, I didn’t know what to do. I kept thinking you’d signal me again but you didn’t. So that’s when I started trying to reach you but I had no idea what I was doing or whether it was working until everything went crazy.”

“It must have been the Proxy, signalling you,” I say, thinking of her sudden changing moods on the road trip, her agitation when we arrived. Had she been sensing Benjamin’s intent? Did she guess he would attempt to kill Aiden and tried to intervene? It’s too confusing. Is she for us or against us? She could have told Aiden to run. Maybe she knew there was no point; that it would be better to deal with things here and now. “I didn’t know she could do that.”

“The white girl?” he asks. “What is she exactly?”

“She’s what you and I would’ve been if Affinity got hold of us when we were born.”

Aiden’s mouth opens a fraction and he draws his chin slowly back.

It’s still raining, though not as hard, but I don’t want to take any risks so I drop my voice to a whisper. “Synergist kids are claimed by the Project.” I explain briefly about telepaths and Conductors and Wardens and whatnot. I only touch lightly on the horrific implications of the Proxy’s life and the reason for Miriam’s efforts to keep our existence secret.

“Holy–” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure if that’s worse than being a Stray.”

“At least you have more chance of being put out of your misery as a Stray.”

He slumps against the pillow and I can see I’m overwhelming him with information. “Sorry.”

“No. I need to hear it. It’s just–” He splays his fingers at his forehead, miming cerebral implosion and stares into space a moment. “Affinity have a whole alliteration thing going, then?”

I roll my eyes up. “That’s just one of their issues.”

“Striker. Sounds like baseball or hockey or something. What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know.” Or more honestly, I don’t want to know. All that matters to me for the moment is that Aiden is safe.

“You think the German guy would fill me in?”

I’m not sure how to broach the subject of Ethan. Seeing them so close together - the hint of familiar angles, cheekbones, mouths and jaws - had been eerie. Downright agonising. Watching Ethan stitch Aiden up then sit with his son while fate decided the outcome in a cylinder … the ordeal of a father offering his condemned son the last thing he had to give, a painless end. Then the reprieve and the piercing joy of relief. Would Aiden understand? Was it my place to tell him? This might be our last moment alone for ages. He should have all the facts. “About the German guy …”