Her face crumples. “I know you’ll be sad at first, about Aiden. Of course. It will be very hard for you to understand, but in the end you’ll know that I am saving you too.” She cups my face with one hand and closes her eyes and knowing fills me. Aiden would suffer, used in ways the Proxy cannot stand to show me. She is generous and good, making the most of Benjamin’s natural prejudice to take Aiden’s life and save him from unthinkable suffering, and me from crippling grief, endless regret. She shows me how thankful I am for this. How thankful I will be. She also shows me that Aiden would never keep our parents’ secret. He would not be able to hide the truth in his mind. Affinity would root it out and claim us both as property. She shows me the isolation tank. She lets me feel the closing of my lungs, the suffocating choke of fluid cutting off air. The vision lifts. My panic lifts. Showing me is for my own good. She helps me see that by taking Aiden’s life she has saved him, saved us both. It’s for the best. She cares. She trusts me to understand.

The knowing ends.

Her hand comes off my face and she sits back and watches at me tenderly. “You’re going to be okay. It won’t be long before they come.”

She rises shakily to her feet and walks through Aiden’s blood, past Kitty and Benjamin to the kitchen, out of my line of sight.

PROMISES

Images blink and pop in my mind. At first I can’t make sense of what I see. It’s disorientating and everything seems turned on its head and I finally realise this is because I’m seeing the kitchen from Jamie’s perspective. He’s on the ground, his head cocked forwards, jammed against the skirting board. There’s pain in his body. His shoulder.

I make out a heavy booted leg near the fridge door. Ethan and his equipment bag open next to him. Jamie’s afraid. Terrified. He thinks of Kitty. Aiden. Me. Me. His fear for me, ripe to bursting. Fear like a grenade. The Proxy appears above him. She looks from Ethan to Jamie, back and forth. She licks her bottom lip before catching it in her teeth, deciding. Jamie. She bends down, slow, awkward, straddling his hips. Her legs are so short that her knees barely touch the ground either side of him. She studies his face, gently tracing brow, cheek, jaw, then she leans forwards on all fours. The neck of her shirt falls open, revealing little white breasts and fine blue veins beneath the almost translucent skin of her chest.

She brings her cheek to his, her mouth by his ear, but I don’t hear her voice, or Jamie doesn’t. Then her mouth is on his, tentative, searching, her brow furrowed like she’s in pain. Jamie lies immobile, his revulsion and fear polluting his signal. He tastes her blood. Her mouth is cold. Her kisses grow more demanding and her face screws up in frustration and she digs her fingers up into his bristling hair. Then she reaches for his limp hand and lifts it from the floor, bringing it to the side of her face, stroking her cheek. She sits back and trails his hand down her neck, over her collarbone. She cups his fingers over her breast. Tears slip down her face and she drops his hand. It falls heavily to the floor.

We watch as she rises and walks out of his line of sight and I find her again with my own eyes, making her way back through the lounge. She gives me a sad look and says, “Don’t be mad.” And she disappears up the hall.

* * *

My vision crackles with a new scene. Again, I see things from the floor. This time I see the hallway, the ceiling trap to the attic. It’s Felicity’s point of view: she’s the only one not accounted for. The Proxy comes into her line of sight and bends down to touch her face. She moves behind her and lifts her under the arms. Felicity’s chin tips forwards and as the Proxy drags her backwards I see sturdy shoes and stockings. The bathroom door bangs open and the Proxy grunts and strains to lift her into the tub. She hurts Felicity’s back on the edge, bangs her head against the porcelain rim, letting her fall in on an awkward angle, one leg still hanging over the edge.

The Proxy straightens up and stretches her back then reaches for the plug, settling it in place. Felicity’s pulse can’t even increase its speed to match her terror. When the faucet opens, the gush of icy water soaks quickly through the back of Felicity’s skirt and blouse. The Proxy sits on the side of the tub and takes her keeper’s pale hand, clasping it between her own as she waits. The water roars and echoes off the bathroom walls, warmer now, rising over Felicity’s shoulders where she lies low in the bath. It floods in around her neck and quickly fills her ears. The Proxy doesn’t move, her eyes on Felicity, unwavering, a slow slip of tears over the girl’s cheeks. When the water swims over Felicity’s lips and nose, the end does not come quickly. It fills her mouth and cuts off air and floods her lungs. It does not stop hurting. It hurts and hurts until her vision goes. Everything is black but Felicity keeps hurting. She feels the gentle pressure of the Proxy’s fingers stroking until finally, finally she feels nothing.

I blink and I’m back in my body. I can see my brother lying in his blood, Kitty lying facing him and beyond them, Benjamin and Davis. Finally the padding tread of the Proxy’s feet. She comes into view, drying her hands on a towel, a watermark on the hems of her jeans, her feet leaving damp pink prints on the floor as she walks back across the room to Benjamin.

She takes his gun and returns to sit heavily beside me. Her sigh is deep with exhaustion. Slipping her fingers through mine, she squeezes softly. “I held her hand. She wasn’t alone.” The low minor note rises from her. “I want you to know, I regret Miriam. I do. It’s a hard thing and I’m sorry for it. But this is what I believe, Evie: you can save her too. Ethan will help you.”

A low rumbling thrum builds in the distance. At first I think it’s the sound of the ocean no longer masked by heavy rain, but the rhythmic whomp, whomp builds until it’s almost deafening overhead. The windows rattle and the roof creaks. Torchlight flashes beyond the curtains.

“It’s going to be okay,” she says, lifting her voice. “It won’t feel like it at first. Not at first but you’ll make it. I promise. You’ll remember what I’ve showed you and you’ll know.”

She shifts her weight, kisses my cheek, then gently, trembling, she turns my face away.

Random images flood my mind and I know they are hers. I see Felicity. Ethan. Jamie. Aiden. Kitty. Me. I see the rain-streaked sky. I remember the feel of water pattering my upturned face.

A clap of sound – the shot so loud it renders me senseless, the jarring of her body beside me, her hand clenching mine in final reflex, the smell of hot metal, the clatter of the gun on the floor, the release of the clamp from the base of my skull and the air splits with Kitty’s scream.

LIES

I come to on the floor of the Affinity Project transport van. I wonder how many times I’ve been sedated since I first came into contact with the organisation almost five weeks ago – less than five since Aiden died. I’ve lost count. I hate the gluey feeling in my mouth post-sedation. Even when I’m rising from oblivion, I’m already thinking about water and getting the taste out of my mouth. I work my lips and tongue. The van’s engine purrs beneath my head. They’ve got the heaters on but the chill seeps up through the floor and I wonder if it’s been snowing. I crack my eyes open and squint against bright shafts of light moving over the ceiling.

Davis sits to the right, his head cocked, waiting for me.

I groan.

He snorts and holds out a bottle of water. “Nope. Doesn’t get easier.”

I take the bottle and haul myself up, leaning back against the seat. Unscrewing the cap, I drink with my eyes closed. “What time is it?” I ask, wiping my mouth on the back of my wrist.