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When Naren had arrived on the island with his daughter, his movements were crisp and decisive. He walked with a determined stride. He didn’t look around because he knew where he was going and what he was doing.
He was finely tuned.
The miser had watched him in the snow globe on that day, watched him examine the master suite. She loved how his attention was focused in that moment, a hyper-intensive focus that could cut through illusion and drill into the truth. It was the same focus in everything he did, from working with highly combustible materials to brushing his teeth.
And he spoke with such effortlessness.
His words had enunciated edges that demanded attention. They were polished and perfectly selected without a moment of hesitation. She had seen every interview he’d ever done, each one demonstrating poise and clarity. He seemed familiar. Maybe she’d known him in her before life. There was no way of knowing that unless she remembered. And she wasn’t doing that.
Monsters back there.
She watched him inside the snow globe—the way he ascended to the tower’s second floor, shoulders back and eyes focused—and wanted to reach inside to escort him. Instead, she waited for him to reach the second floor. He entered the hallway and he perked up.
His nostrils flared.
She could feel excitement building inside his chest, pressure that was both exhilarating and frightening. Heather leaned close to the life-sized crystal ball. He was on the floor right below her. There were only two doors. They were both closed. He stopped outside the one on his left where the familiar smell was strongest. Hesitantly, he nudged it open.
Memories surged into his awareness.
Good and bad memories floated on the surface all at once. He held steady against the door, feet frozen to the floor, confusion swirling in his head. Like an old dog sledder feeling the ice, he adapted to the familiar surroundings before moving. His legs slowly thawed, pulse racing.
He didn’t touch anything.
He engaged his senses—sight and smell and hearing—to absorb every detail before walking the perimeter. It cut through the rising tide of good and bad memories. She’d brought him to the island for a couple of reasons. There was a virus in the network, but she could manage that if she wanted. The real reason he was here started in that laboratory. She pulled her cloak tight and yanked the hood over her head.
Then stepped into the snow globe.
One moment she was on the third floor, the next moment she was in the second-floor lab.
Or so it seemed.
The unique smell of biotechnology was in the air—a combination of cold metal and warm clay, the vibrations, the hum of centrifuges and congealers and the occasional drip of condensers.
Vials of heavy gray liquid were lined up in racks. Naren would recognize the color and smell of synthetic stem cells. He’d pioneered their development. He would know that smell like Nicholas knew the smell of nutmeg and the taste of eggnog.
“Do you like it?” she said.
Naren spun around. He’d entered an empty lab, but now she was suddenly next to him.
“It’s overwhelming, I know,” she said. “This isn’t anything you haven’t seen, though. Just unexpected.”
She took a step closer. Her range was limited. Another step forward and she would walk out of the snow globe and back onto the third floor.
“I want to apologize,” she said. “This can’t be easy, dredging up memories. I patterned this room after your old lab so you would feel more comfortable.”
His mouth closed. He had recovered from the surprise but was still wary. He wondered if this was a trap. It wasn’t, of course.
Not entirely.
“I’m an admirer of your work, Naren. It’s nothing short of brilliant. You are a true original in our field of study.”
Our field of study. She’d let that slip intentionally. The truth would put him more at ease.
“Your development of synthetic flesh was a breakthrough and everyone agrees. Clearly, I’m a big fan of it, but that’s not why I’m so impressed. You’re misunderstood. They didn’t understand what you were doing, Naren. You took a risk and the scientific community abandoned you. I understand your pain.”
She paced a tight circle.
“I assume you know who I am by now,” she said. “You’ve done your research, I expect. You know who I was before I came to the island, so I don’t imagine this surprises you. Do you know why I chose you?”
He waited.
“Because we’re not like them. We’re special.”
The usual sure-natured edge to his posture had been struck with the mallet of doubt. He had a secret and she knew it. And now he knew she knew it.
Special.
“Just so you know, you and your daughter are not prisoners. You can return to your home because I know you won’t tell anyone. I know too much about you. I hope you stay, really I do. There’s so much more to do, but it has to be your decision.”
He blinked rapidly.
“At some point, though, there will be no going back.”
He looked around the lab. “I know what you’re doing.”
“And I know what you’ve done.” She stepped to the limits of her globe. “You’re hiding a secret, even from your daughter. I can help you with that. You can forget what you’ve done and live in the moment. You can leave your secret behind you.”
She snapped her fingers.
“What is it you want?” he said.
Standing before him, the cloaked figure was not helping to earn his trust. She was saying all the right things, telling him what he wanted to hear, but he needed to trust her. He needed to see her eyes, to know her face.
“We can help each other,” she said.
He looked away. “And what do you need?”
“I have a problem.” She sighed deeply. “Only you can solve it.”
She wished to move closer to him, to shed her cloak and take his hands. He had turned a shade paler and his mouth was dry. He tried to swallow. She was certain he could handle the truth, but he was beginning to teeter.
He turned his back on her. For a moment, she thought he would storm out of the lab and take his daughter directly to the boat. She would not stop him. It was a risk, but he had to choose to stay. She wasn’t running a prison.
Except for Nicholas.
That was a different story, but not really. He would understand what she was doing and eventually choose to stay. He just needed a little convincing.
He paced around the room with that charming mannerism of rubbing his chin while he went into laser focus. His secret grew heavier with every year. The miser offered to free him. But as much as he wanted to be free from his lies, the truth was even scarier.
It could destroy everything he loved.
“If we’re to go forward”—he stopped in front of her—“I need to see you.”
This was unexpected.
She was braced for his rejection, not a challenge. She’d made him vulnerable; now he expected the same. He wanted her to reveal her true self.
“You’re not ready.” She stepped out of the snow globe.
Her robe was smoldering. Prickly heat stabbed the back of her neck. Pressure filled her chest. Regret transformed into anger. The furniture began to chatter; her cloak began to sizzle. Her emotions trickled into her belly like molten metal. The windows billowed and the air wavered.
Then shredded the cloak.
The third floor was built to withstand her meltdowns. She was exposed for no one to see. She grabbed another cloak from an unending supply. She yearned to be free, to show Naren—anyone—her true self, but there was no solution to what afflicted her. It was too late to change now.
They were both on the naughty list.
She left Naren on the second floor, where he would explore the lab and consider her offer. There was other business for her to attend. She went to the first floor, where her other guest was shivering.
It was time to let him out.