“And?” she repeats. “You think money excuses any of this? Well, guess what, it appears you don’t have any more fucking money!” She motions toward us. “This was never about money. This was control.”

“Look,” Mr. Goodwin says to her, taking on a weird parental tone, considering the circumstances. “I had no idea anything was happening to you. Claire never mentioned it, and—”

“Why would she?” Adrian asks, sneering. “My God, she must hate you. She must know what you are. But … she tried to protect me. She tried to keep smiling.” Adrian starts sobbing. “She was in pain and she tried to keep smiling because she didn’t want me to end up here. With you.”

Adrian stops to breathe, wiping her tears again. “You call them machines,” she says in a choked voice. “But you’re a monster.”

Adrian squeezes her eyes shut, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her father looks at her, pained.

“The boys at Ridgeview won’t bother you again,” I tell Adrian, hoping to make her feel better.

Adrian turns to me, shocked. “Did you murder them?” she asks.

Marcella sniffs a laugh.

“No,” I say. “We’re not … We’re not killers. We caught them. We recorded them as proof, and our friend is sending it to the paper, implicating the school in covering up the harassment. We got another boy to confront Jonah. Even Mr. Marsh is going to report Garrett.”

“Really?” Adrian asks. “Marsh is going to … He’s standing up to them?”

I nod and look at her father. “He is,” I say. “Because he realized that by not doing so, he was allowing it. He was condoning it.”

“And now what?” Mr. Goodwin asks. “Reporters show up here?”

“Maybe,” I reply. “And it’s up to Adrian what she wants to do about that. But you have to cut ties with the corporation. If you won’t turn on them, then you have to at least stop funding them.”

“It’s not that easy,” he says with a flash of fear.

“Mr. Goodwin,” I say, “you have a daughter you seem to care about. Men make claims that having a daughter, sister, or wife makes them more sympathetic to a woman’s pain. Since they can’t see them as fellow humans, they have to classify them as something else. So now it’s your turn. Seeing that it happens to your daughter, do you wish it on others, even if they’re not human?”

He genuinely thinks about it. The pause should bother me, but instead, it feels authentic.

“No,” he whispers after a moment. “No, I don’t. What would you have me do?” he asks. “And what about Claire?”

Sydney takes a step forward. “We might know someone who can help,” she says. “On one condition. You pull your funding—forever.”

Mr. Goodwin thinks it over. He looks at his house, at his things. And then he looks at his daughter, and for the first time … I think he sees her. He sees what the world he’s creating would do to her.

And silently, he nods his head. The girls and I go upstairs to retrieve Claire.

28

Claire doesn’t look like the rest of us. She’s older—at least several years older than the typical girl when she was created. She never attended Innovations Academy. Along the way, someone must have decided that teen girls were worth more money.

Claire smiles when she sees us, though, like she recognizes us the moment we walk in. But she’s clearly failing. Her left eye no longer opens, and blood leaks from her ears. We get her downstairs, and she hugs Adrian in the foyer, whispering something I can’t hear. When she straightens, Adrian tells her she’ll see her soon.

Mr. Goodwin steps forward, but Claire turns away from him and takes Brynn’s arm. Now that we’re here, she seems to have more resolve. I watch as Mr. Goodwin accepts this. Maybe he knows he deserves it.

The girls and I get Claire outside and find a car waiting for us. Marcella called Raven, with Adrian’s permission, and told her about the situation. Raven was happy, no, ecstatic to help. She promised that she could.

When we get to the car, Raven climbs out, smiling at Claire.

“It’s okay,” she tells her kindly. “I’m Raven and I’m fucking great at this.”

Claire laughs softly, allowing Raven to guide her into the car. When she’s securely in the passenger seat, Raven steps over to us.

“How bad is it?” she asks.

“Pretty bad,” Marcella says. “She’s been rebuilt, but not fixed. We’re hoping you can do it. She’s the prototype.”

“I’m definitely going to try,” she says. “Wow … did you say ‘prototype’?” She looks back at the car, her eyes twinkling with breathless excitement.

“And she’s someone’s mother,” Brynn adds. “So you have to save her.” Raven turns to her and nods.

“I will.” Despite Raven’s promise, there’s a flash of worry in her expression.

“What is it?” Marcella asks. “What’s wrong?”

“Have any of you heard from Annalise?” Raven asks.

“No,” Brynn says. “We haven’t.”

“Do you think something happened?” Sydney asks.

“She’s not at the apartment,” Raven says. “And it looks like she took some of her stuff.”

The girls are at once frantic, and I close my eyes for a moment, steadying myself.

“I know where Annalise is,” I announce. “She didn’t … She wanted me to wait to tell you until we finished this.”

“It’s finished,” Marcella says shortly. “Now tell.”

“She went back to Innovations Academy,” I say, and Brynn gasps out a cry. “She went to look for the other girls,” I explain. “And then she was going to burn the school to the ground. She didn’t want them to ever bring us back there.”

I’m met with silence. Raven’s mouth falls open. She seems hurt, abandoned, but then she quickly looks at Claire in the car again. It occurs to me that Raven is chasing the next tech, the old tech in this case, but new to her. Although she’s helped us, it’s clear that she’s hooked on our information. On our programming. I wonder if, deep down, she really sees us any differently than Mr. Goodwin does.

“I have to … ,” Raven says, motioning to the car. “I’m going to get started on Claire, okay? I’ll let you know when I have more info.”

Distracted, Brynn turns to her. “Wait, where are you taking her?”

“I have a workspace,” Raven says, waving it off. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

Raven gets in the car, saying something to Claire that makes her smile. We watch them drive off, and the second they’re gone, Sydney turns on me fiercely.

“And you just let Annalise go?” she demands. “And didn’t tell any of us?”

“She begged me,” I say. “She made me promise. She said she’d come back when it was done. I asked her to come back.”

But Sydney isn’t impressed. She turns away from me, walking back and forth on the sidewalk as if thinking.