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Sonia’s office was plain and organized, unlike Lace’s, who always had piles of papers all over his desk and floor. A hardwood desk sat in between bookshelves against the walls, but they were as empty as the desk’s countertop. I looked inside the cabinets and pulled them in and out to check every single space available. Nothing. Onto the next step.

I searched throughout the entire room for secret hiding spots. Stopping in front of the bookcases, I flipped through pages quickly with an attentive eye. Empty again.

Katerina.

The hairs on my nape rose. I studied the empty room, the earpiece suddenly blasting with a familiar voice.

“Katerina? Is everything going well on your end?” Tristan’s deep voice silenced the trailing whisper.

“Y-yes. Did you find Lorenzo?” My chest tightened as I placed the book back and leaned against the bookcase.

“No. There were some last-minute changes done by Sonia. I’m still searching where he might have been sent,” he said, and a sigh slipped my lips. “Let me know when you discover the notebook.”

“I wi—” Suddenly, I lost my balance and fell backward. I stumbled onto the hard surface, catching myself before my head met the floor. The bookcase revolved and shut in front of me in a swift motion.

Was this what Tristan meant when he said Sonia’s room could only be accessed through her office? Probably. Definitely not what I was expecting, though. A door would have been less. . . cliché.

The white room was large and dim, more spacious than mine back in the CEG. A bed rested in the left corner and a desk on the other side, a few bookcases taking up the remaining wall.

And in the middle, there was a door with a small handle. Although my feet motioned toward it, my eyes trailed onto the desk filled with manila folders. Folders that had a big brand on the front. A brand that belonged to the CEG.

Katerina.

Open it.

The first file held my background, the one I’d witnessed Lace wiped out from the CEG’s database. There was no way he had lied. If he kept any copies, it would have hindered me from enrolling six years ago. He would have risked his title if anyone found them and noticed he still approved my guardian license a year later.

But the proof was right in front of me, resting untouched with a taunting hold on my throat.

I rummaged through the short stack, skimming through the information. There were some pieces I recognized —my birthday, place of birth, old address, treatments that could have disqualified my enrollment— but the detailed random vicious attacks were all. . .blank in my mind.

It didn’t ring a bell.

But the pulsing ache in my gut said otherwise.

You’re weak.

Remember.

A force led me to the next yellow folder. They held information about different men whose pictures rested on each new page with one similarity: gray eyes.

It surfaced distant memories.

A downpour of me in the same white room engulfed my head, and each of them shoved into the room while I shifted. Acceptinghereach time. Ofheras she caved into the endless hunger that burrowed deeper into the abyss.

Do you see?

What will you choose?

I froze in place, but my hands acted on their own, flipping to the last page. This face I knew; it sent shivers down my spine.

He was the man I’d seen during my dreams alongsideher.The man who shared cold, gray eyes with the others. A face that shouted with a deep voice.

You’ve done all of this.

The hunger will let me in.

The walls suddenly flooded with blood, red streaks staining the white room as it puddled around me. My skin numbed as a burning sensation rose from my stomach and into my throat. I felt it rasp against my tongue and mouth, coughs trying to escape. Instead, red liquid trickled from my lips and onto my hands.