Sophie lay in her bedroom, gazing at the ceiling and thinking about Matthew. What was he doing at that moment? Was he okay? Was he in cryostasis already?
Sophie had been at the cryostation with Matthew when their mother had gone into the freeze, so she knew what the process looked like—knew the sight of the blue liquid filling the chamber with their mother’s unconscious body inside, knew the sound of the heart rate monitor slowing as she entered a state of suspended animation. Matthew had put an arm around her as they watched, and she’d turned to cry into her brother’s shirt.
“We’ll get her out,” Matthew had said then. “We’ll find a way. I promise.”
Now he was the one going into the freeze. Her big brother, who’d always taken care of her. He’d taken care of her when their father died and their mother was too grief-stricken to get out of bed for weeks, he’d taken care of her after their mother was diagnosed with cancer, and he’d taken care of her in the year since she’d gone into the freeze, been as good a parent to Sophie as the ones she’d had before they’d been taken away.
She knew Matthew thought he was taking care of her now, too, that his joining the Exo Project was the best thing for her—but Sophie couldn’t help being angry. Matthew’s leaving hurt more than their father’s death had, more than their mother’s cancer. It hurt more because he’d chosen it. Her parents had been taken away. But Matthew had decided to abandon her.
Still, when she’d woken early that morning to bake Matthew a birthday cake, she promised herself she wouldn’t cry when her brother left, that she’d be strong for him. Of course she cried anyway, like a stupid baby. It was embarrassing. She’d managed to pull herself together at the last minute, to keep herself calm as they said their final good-byes. But then as soon as Matthew closed the door behind him, she’d broken down again, run to her room, and sobbed facedown on the bed until her pillow was wet with tears.
She lay that way for an hour until she’d cried every last tear and felt completely empty inside. Then she rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling.
“I have to stop this,” she said aloud. She had to pull herself together. Matthew’d said she needed to be strong for their mother, and he was right. Matthew was gone—he was never coming back. The only thing left to do was get her mother out of the freeze, get her cured—then live. Live a life that made Matthew’s sacrifice worthwhile.
At that moment, the doorbell rang out through the apartment. Sophie sat up.
It was probably Adam or Silas, coming to check on her.
Sophie got up and checked her face in the mirror. Her eyes were still a little puffy, but she didn’t think Adam or Silas would notice. Boys never paid any attention to those things.
She walked to the door, opened it—then gave a start when it wasn’t the familiar face of one of Matthew’s friends that she saw, but an older man, one she didn’t recognize. He wore a radiation suit, the helmet tucked under his arm as he stood in the hallway.
“Who are you?” Sophie asked. Her hand crept up to rest on her heart, which was beating fast in her chest.
“I’m with the Exo Project, miss. May I come in?”
Sophie nodded, stood aside to let him pass.
“Are you Sophie Tilson?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“You have a brother named Matthew?”
Her heart fluttered. “Yes. What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. The freezing process went fine. Matthew’s in good health, and he’s being launched with the others to the departure site.”
“So then why are you here?”
“Well, Matthew listed you as the person who should get his money. The reward money. Most of the Exo Project participants signed theirs over to someone staying behind.”
Sophie breathed relief. “Yeah, that’s right. Well, not exactly—the money’s really for our mom, but she can’t use it right now. She’s in the freeze, see. That’s why I’m getting it. She’s sick, and I need it to get her—”
“Yes,” the man said. “That’s all fine. I’m just going to need to scan your ident to make everything official.”
“Sure.” Sophie peeled back her sleeve and offered the man her forearm.
What happened next went by in a rush, before she could react or even realize what was happening.
The man’s hand clamped down on her arm in a vise grip that felt like it might crack her bones. Sophie gasped with the pain but didn’t have time to cry out. The man yanked her closer and whirled her around—a violent dance that was almost graceful in its smoothness. His arm stole around her waist as he grasped her tightly to his body. Sophie could feel the man’s breath flutter in her ear.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice gravelly.
He plunged a syringe into the side of her neck. Sophie let out a soft squeak of protest when the needle pierced her skin, then slumped, her eyes slipping closed as blackness surrounded her.