“What am I looking at?” I ask. On the screen is a bunch of codes, but beyond that, they make a pattern, almost like a wave. Raven clicks another button, and suddenly, it’s moving. It’s pulsing and alive.

“This is Annalise,” Raven whispers like it’s the most thrilling secret she’s ever heard. “This is her programming.”

I watch the codes, not able to decipher any of it on my own. But something about how the patterns shift … I can’t explain it, but I do recognize it. I know it really is Annalise.

But my next instinct is fear that she’s vulnerable, her entire existence now on someone’s laptop, then hurt that she didn’t think about how we’d survive if something happened to her.

“Why did you give her access?” I ask Annalise. “Why would you let her test her theories on you?”

“I’m not into being a lab rat,” Annalise says, rolling down the sleeve of her shirt. “But Raven made me an offer. I took her up on it.”

“What kind of offer?” I ask, turning to Raven.

“Downloads,” Raven replies. “A faster way to process information, skills. I told Annalise that with the right changes, she could become stronger.” She bites her lip, pulling it through her teeth. “You’re all a miracle. I never thought …” She shakes her head, growing emotional. “I never thought I’d get to see something so beautiful.”

I watch her. I’ll admit, I warm slightly. We’re used to being called beautiful, but it was always about our outside appearance. Is calling our programming beautiful the same? Or it is like complimenting our sense of humor? Our kindness?

“And now that I’ve seen the programming,” Raven says, “I can tailor some adjustments.” She reaches to take Annalise’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “I can even install a diverter.”

“A what?” Sydney asks.

“A diverter,” Raven repeats. “With it, she can decide where to funnel her strength. Where to shut off the pain. She’ll be able to hit harder. Or run faster. It’s temporary, like an adrenaline rush in human beings. Except she can use it strategically; it could be a weapon. Which helps when you’re trying to keep yourself safe.”

“You want to turn her into some kind of weapon?” Brynn asks, horrified.

Annalise adjusts her position on the couch. “No, Brynny,” she says. “I asked her about it. I thought it could help us.”

“It will help,” Raven insists. “You would be able to reroute your pain centers. Learn at the click of a button. There’s so much potential.”

“But … does that make us even less human?” I murmur.

Raven seems to notice the change in my tone. “No,” she says sincerely. “It just means you get to choose which parts of you are human. But if I’m honest …” She runs her gaze over me. “Why would you want to be so ordinary?”

I don’t respond, unsure of the answer. Raven smiles softly and lower her eyes.

“Why are you really here?” I ask her. “What’s in this town for a hacker?”

Annalise opens her mouth to intervene, but I shake my head no and her teeth click together. I’ll admit, the easy way Raven has with Annalise is comforting. Raven does seem honest, but she needs to be up front with us. We’ve been lied to our entire lives; we’re not going to let it continue to happen.

“I’m not from here,” Raven admits. “I used to live in Northern California. But my fascination with AI has been building for years. I’ve worked with some tech companies, looked through different articles and forums. I knew someone was building AI to interact with humans. I knew it. And then …” She smiles, looking around at us. “I read an article about a technology company, and something about it pinged around in my head for weeks. It was founded by a man named Winston Weeks.”

My stomach drops, and I have to resist the urge to look at the other girls. I don’t want to give away more than Raven already knows.

“He has a lab here, in this small town.” Raven laughs. “This isn’t exactly Silicon Valley, so why would a man with some of the most promising advances in AI set up shop here?”

“What sort of advances?” Sydney asks.

“Well,” Raven starts, “most AI is programmed specifically. Specific tasks. But this Weeks guy has some pretty radical approaches.” She laughs. “I mean, it seemed radical, but that was before I met all of you.

“Anyway”—she waves her hand—“none of it was as advanced as you. But he promised smart bots within a few years—ones who could anticipate needs, offer companionship in a way that’s never been done before. There was no mention of enslaved girls,” she points out firmly. “I have no interest in subjugating anyone. But the idea of an AI that could think on its own? The possibilities and potential are immeasurable. So I drove out here to find his laboratory. Before I could, I saw Annalise’s messages. It was perfect.”

“Convenient,” Sydney corrects.

Raven studies our expressions. “Do you know this Winston Weeks?” she asks.

None of us answer.

Brynn gets up and walks into the kitchen. She starts opening and closing drawers, taking out food to put together dinner. Raven purses her lips, accepting the silence as an answer.

“Okay, then,” Raven says curtly, turning in my direction. “You requested my presence. Did you want me to put up those firewalls?” she asks. “It wouldn’t take long. I would just need to plug in wires to—”

“I think I’m going to hold off,” I say.

“But why?” she asks. “If you’re vulnerable—”

“It’s gotten better,” I lie, feeling Sydney look at me. “But I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

The fact is, I can’t take the chance on Raven. She knows far more than we realized. Giving her access to my private data, my programming and memories … that would be dangerous. Leandra killed Imogene at the threat of her memories being exposed to Anton. Would she do the same to me for handing my head over to Raven?

And I have to weigh whether this is more dangerous than whoever’s trying to hack me.

“I understand,” Raven says quietly. Annalise doesn’t argue for her to stay, but she looks annoyed.

Raven collects her things, putting her laptop in a case and pulling the strap over her shoulder. But before she leaves, she dips her chin to me.

“Will you walk me out?” she asks. I’m not sure why she wants this of me explicitly, but sensing that she needs to talk, I agree.

“Be right back,” I tell the girls, and I walk downstairs with Raven behind me. When we get onto the porch, I turn to her. Her expression is heavy.

“What’s going on?” I ask. Birds chirp in the trees surrounding our house, and I’m momentarily distracted by them. They seem too loud, the light too bright beyond them.

“I need you to know something,” Raven says seriously, drawing my attention back. “When I was looking inside Annalise’s programming, there were … problems.”

My heart skips. “What do you mean?” I ask.

“There’s damage,” Raven says. “Physical damage. I’m guessing it’s related to whatever happened to her face.”