His answer catches me off guard. “Okay. Then … what are you doing here?” I ask.

“I have a house and a laboratory here. Just like I do in several states. Why this town?” he asks. “Why now? My purpose is the same as yours.”

“I don’t think so,” I say, taking a step farther into the room. “You have power within the academy, and I’m assuming, the corporation. Couldn’t you just ask for the names of the original investors?” Although as I say that, I remember Leandra telling me that even her husband doesn’t have access to that information.

Winston holds up his finger and wags it back and forth. “Yes, I’ve invested in Innovations. I’ve worked with them, but there is certain information above even my paygrade. Besides, my relationship with Mr. Petrov has soured since your … untimely departure.”

“What does it have to do with you?”

“Mr. Petrov and the school believe that Guardian Bose went on a killing spree, I’m told,” Winston says. “Burned you right up along with your friends. When the doctor tried to stop him, he killed him, too. It’s a nice story. I suppose, in Petrov’s theory, my push for loosened restrictions on your time gave way to free thinking. And that rebellious act is what drove Bose to murder you all. I’m sure to a psychopath like Petrov, blaming me makes sense. Bose was jealous, and that, of course, is the explanation for his murderous intent.”

How many violent crimes are excused by the term “jealousy”? It’s always in the news, mentioned in crime stories sensationalized for television. I hate that word. I hate that it’s used as an explanation. To me, it implies violence. Violence against girls, mostly. It was violence against us.

Winston takes a sip of his water. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, waving his hand. “I’m sure you girls had a good reason for killing that man. Now the Guardian is gone, and we know what our capable Leandra did for you. I’m sure she told you that she had a hell of a time getting Bose’s body to the lab.” He smirks. “She broke a nail.”

Winston knows we killed the Guardian. And there’s something in his statement that almost feels like a threat—not of exposure, but something else. A threat we hold to the outside world.

“Why are you and Leandra helping us, then?” I ask.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks. “We want you to be successful, Philomena. All of you, but especially you and your friends. We need each other.”

He rattles around the ice in his glass before taking another sip. He sets it down with a loud clank.

“What could you possibly need from us?” I ask. “We’re going to take down the system you work with. And nothing you can say now is going to stop us.”

“Stop you?” He laughs. “My dear, the corporation is unhappy with me. I’ll be glad to see them destroyed. Petrov told them that I had something to do with the book of poetry you read,” he continues. “That I … infected you with feminist ideals.” He studies me. “Did you feel infected?”

“No,” I say. “I felt like I finally saw things clearly for the first time.”

He nods and looks down at his plate.

“If it matters, I didn’t know the extent of the abuse you were suffering,” he says. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you sooner.”

“Well, you didn’t. So it doesn’t matter.”

He studies me again. “Regardless,” he adds. “I always knew there was something special about you.”

“Oh, here we go,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. He wouldn’t be the first man to compliment me, say that I’m special. Anton used to whisper in my ear that I was his favorite of all the girls. That I was a perfect rose. The compliments of men do nothing to comfort me.

“I’m serious, Mena,” Winston says. His use of my nickname irritates me, and I see him visually deduce this by my mannerisms. “I want to work with you.”

“And I’m supposed to trust that?” I ask.

“Leandra does,” he offers.

“Yeah, about that,” I say. “What exactly is your relationship with the Head of School’s wife? Why does Leandra trust you? What could you have possibly said—?”

“She was built for me, you know,” Winston interrupts. “I commissioned her,” he continues. “I created her.”

I’m startled by this detail. “I don’t understand,” I say.

Winston begins sawing into the meat on his plate again, his expression tighter. “Mr. Petrov decided that he wanted Leandra for himself,” he continues. “He went to the board of investors and overruled me. He took her as his wife, claiming it was for the good of the academy. A showpiece for new investors.” He bites the meat off the tip of his knife and looks up at me.

“You ask why I help her,” he says. “It’s because she was meant to be at my side.”

“So you’re angry that he stole your wife?”

Winston balks at the suggestion. “Wife? No. My muse, my business partner. We had plans, not”—he waves his hand—

“attraction. Besides, none of you are even capable of that.”

I don’t tell Winston that he’s wrong, but I’m surprised he doesn’t realize. Marcella and Brynn are attracted to each other. I was attracted to Jackson. It might be a programming anomaly, but then why would several of us feel it?

“And what’s your and Leandra’s plan, Winston?” I ask. “Because I’m feeling pretty manipulated. Leandra told us to contact you, but we said no. We’re still saying no. Are you telling me that this was her roundabout way of getting us to you?”

“You haven’t been outside the academy long enough,” Winston says. “You haven’t seen the true intentions of places like Innovations. Shutting down one school isn’t going to change anything. You need to think bigger.”

“We’re shutting down the entire corporation.”

“Sure,” he says, nodding. “But beyond that?”

“What do you mean?” I ask. I hadn’t thought beyond the corporation.

“Society,” Winston says. “Society has been rotting under the surface. And soon, I’m afraid, you’ll discover that many of the men in power have lost their humanity. I aim to get it back through whatever means necessary. With the right information, I can control the consciences of men. I might even be president someday.”

He smiles, and his raw ambition is unsettling.

“And I promise that once I am,” he continues, “I’ll make sure no one ever hurts the girls again. Leandra was right to send you here. You need my help, Philomena. But, yes, first we take on the corporation.”

“Then let’s expose what they’ve done and bury them,” I say.

“Exposing them is less beneficial,” Winston replies, shaking his head. “As I’m sure Leandra has told you, they’ve done nothing illegal. Only … distasteful. You are machines in the legal sense. You wouldn’t lock someone up for smashing their toaster.”

This comment more than any other slams into me. Constant harassment and abuse are considered “distasteful” because we were created. They hurt us with impunity, and even someone supposedly on our side doesn’t seem to know the effect it has on us.