SEVEN THE SOUND SEEMED to be coming from somewhere by my feet. A high-pitched tone, and then a buzzing. My dreams gathered around the sensation, trying to make sense of it, rippling and then scattering like a school of minnows. There it was again. Panic coursed through me in an electrical current, my body shuddering awake. Where was I? I opened my eyes. Right. The museum. We’d fallen asleep on the aquarium floor, the ghostly pale light of the fish tanks a strange comfort in the open, spooky dark. In front of me, a pair of bumbling sea turtles moved silently through their own dream world. “Willa.” Aidan, who’d been curled up beside me, was now sitting up. “We have a text.” Oh God. I swallowed. “From Corbin?” Was he on our trail again? Last I knew he didn’t have the number for the temporary phone, but that didn’t mean much. He was FBI. He could find it out. He’d done it before. Reality broke through—all of the problems we’d tried to kiss away the night before were still very much with us in the cold light of day.
