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“What is it? It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” He ducks away when I reach for him, holding up his hand to prevent any further contact. It stings, especially when he won’t even look at me. “Just let me help you. We’ll figure something out. It’s not your fault.”

“Will you stop saying that?” His gaze snaps to mine again, and I freeze at the haunted look on his face. “It’s all my fault. Don’t you see? This place wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for me. I’m the reason for my own tortured existence.”

I shake my head. “If you weren’t here, they’d find another way.”

“No!” He slams his fist into the floor. “I’m the reason for all of it. I’m the reason Clausen started Madison Academy.”

The room spins for a moment, and I blink it back into focus. “What are you talking about?”

He swats at his eyes, shivering against some unseen truth. “Clausen is my stepfather. He didn’t even know people like us existed until he met my mother and me.”

The small room becomes a coffin as I fight for a breath.

“So this place isn’t a school? They’re not trying to help us?”

He shakes his head. “On the surface, sure. It even functions like one since most of the staff don’t know the truth, but that’s not the fundamental purpose, no.

Clausen uses this place like his own personal toybox.

He studies us and uses our abilities for his gain without the students even knowing what he’s doing. He’s obsessed.”

My heart slams into my ribs as I consider everything he just said. It’s absurd. Horrifying. Everything in me wants to scream at him and strike back with some angry retort, and yet… I believe him. I do. I believe him.

“Have you tried to tell anyone?”

“Yeah, right. A violent, unstable drug-addict? People wouldn’t trust me on what I ate for breakfast let alone a story like that.”

“What if I told it?”

“They wouldn’t believe you either. And even if they did, Clausen has so many people in his pocket by now they’d cover it up without a fight.”

“But if Clausen uses blackmail to gain all his allies, then he probably has a lot of enemies as well.”

Daniel huffs a dry laugh. “Blackmail is a last resort. Clausen usually goes with more subtle tactics to gain his advantage. Trade secrets, insider knowledge, can’t-lose investments.

You’d be amazed what people have in their heads.

Once, a senile old man was visiting his granddaughter who attended here, and I saw he owned a priceless painting.

Clausen convinced him to sell it to him for fifty dollars and turned around and made millions at auction. All of that is on my conscience.”

I bristle at that. “On your conscience? Are you serious? I’ve seen the visions. I’ve seen what they do to you. How can you blame yourself for this?” I grunt when he still refuses to look at me. “I’m not here because of you. I came to Madison Academy on my own. It was my choice.”

He glares at the door, clearly trying to reconstruct his walls.

“There’s more, isn’t there? It’s not about the money,” I reason out-loud. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He shakes his head, jaw tight.

“Daniel, what is it? Why are you really here?”

He still doesn’t respond, and I exhale in frustration. After a long, painful pause, I give up and use the opportunity to take his hand and search his memory again. He allows it, probably reading my willingness for a truce, and I manage to find a happy thought from his distant past.

“You had a goldfish.”

The shadow lifts from his face with a slow grin. “You see Nein.”

I snort a laugh. “Nein? Isn’t nein ‘no’ in German? You named your pet No?”

A faint smile flickers over his lips. “Yes, I named it No. Well, technically, we never named it. It became No because every time I tried to play with it, my mother would yell, ‘Nein!’”

I laugh again, sudden emotion searing through me.

Sadness, joy, terror, love—they all mesh together in an immovable lump in my throat.

I find myself clinging to the image of a sweet, dark-haired boy being chased away by his loving mother.

It’s so foreign from the young man in front of me now, tortured and held captive by his extraordinary abilities.

“There’s nothing you can do. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he says. I wrap my arm around his and rest my head against his shoulder.

“That doesn’t mean I’m giving up.”

“You think too highly of me. I’m not as perfect as you think.”

“So? Perfection is boring.”

His smile fades as quickly as it appears. “We can’t make this mistake again. We never should have gotten so close in the first place. They exploited it before, and they will again. Even now, you’re here for a reason. Don’t forget that.”

“Maybe, but it’s going to keep happening so we might as well accept it and learn how to disguise it.”

“Your slap was pretty convincing. Both of them.”

I reach over and brush his damaged cheek with a frown. “Was this from me?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “No. Sorry to disappoint you, but it didn’t hurt as much as you wanted it to.”

“I’m glad for that, at least. I’m sorry, Daniel. I was upset and scared and I really believed them for a moment.”

He takes my hand and brushes my fingers with a kiss. “I know. I don’t blame you.”

I stare at him, wanting nothing more than to kiss him back. Deep and saturated until I feel him in every recess of my being. In fact, I want everything about him, mind, body, and soul, but he’s right. That’s a course we can’t take.

“You’re finally getting it.”

I sigh. My fingers feel so cold when he releases them. “So what do we do?”

He rests against the wall again, squinting in thought. “I want to try something. When you go back to Clausen, tell him that I want to make a deal. Then at least it’s up to me and removes the attention from you again.”

My eyes narrow in suspicion. “The last time you made a deal, I ended up losing my memories and turning into a violent nutcase.”

His lips twist briefly. “You really hated me, didn’t you.” He lets out a breath. “I didn’t think you had it in you to hit someone. Or stab them.”

“I wouldn’t have thought so either. I’m still horrified. Maybe the same magnetic quality that draws us together has the power to repel just as strongly.”

His eyes darken and shift toward the door.

“They’re coming for me,” I guess.

He nods, and our gazes collide in a silent plea. I force myself to back away, a thousand words passing between us as the footsteps become scrapes of a lock. When the guards move inside, I do my best to plaster an angry mask on my face.

“It’s about time,” I mumble, pushing to my feet.

“Clausen is waiting for you,” one of the guards says.

“Good. I have news for him.”

I give Clausen his message, and he seems pleased but not surprised.

Maybe that’s the right reaction, maybe not.

I’m not sure how to judge these things anymore.

I have a role in the game, but I have to play it blindly, trusting Daniel knows the rules better than I do.

For now, I’m supposed to hate him. Seems simple enough, and over the next couple of days, I even rehearse potential scenes in my head.

I think I’m prepared for our battle until his appearance at group a week later.

My stomach constricts, my pulse racing as he moves into the room with familiar indifference and drops to his chair.

While it takes everything I have to keep my cool, he seems to manage indifferent without a second thought.

He’s so convincing, I start to wonder if I imagined our reunion in his closet cell.

“Ah, Daniel. We’re glad you could make it today,” Clausen says. “How are you finding your new accommodations?”

“Wonderful,” he mutters.

“Great. Everyone, you remember Daniel. It’s been a few weeks since he’s graced us with his presence.”

Glare. You’re angry. You’re supposed to be mad he’s here. I think I do an admirable job with my angry glare.

“What’s the matter, Rebecca? You look upset,” Clausen observes, right on cue.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I say stiffly, crossing my arms.

“Glad to hear it.” He brings the class to attention and settles into his chair. “Today we’ll continue our discussion on boundaries. Why we construct them, how they impact us, and what role your gifts play. Sara, you had an interesting point about that yesterday.”

My friend shifts uncomfortably at the attention.

“Yeah. I mean… I guess I just think setting boundaries is more complicated for us than other people. It’s hard, especially if we don’t have full control over our abilities.

How can we be responsible for crossing a line with something we can’t control? ”

It’s a good point. At the very least, one I can exploit for now.

“Rebecca, you look like you want to say something.”

I glance at Clausen, glad he picked up on my signal. “She’s right.”

“How so?”

I clear my throat, trying to read his side of the challenge. “In my case, people don’t like when I see into their heads. It’s up to me to respect their privacy and try to avoid contact as much as possible. If I do see something, I try my best to ignore it.”

“But not always.”

I shrug. “I’m not perfect, of course, but I try not to.”

“Anyone else have something to add?” When no one responds, he turns to Daniel. “What about you? Boundaries are something you do well.”

Daniel leans back, clearly bored. “Boundaries are subjective. That’s not even a question you can answer.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He rubs at his eyes, and I wonder if he’ll even respond.

Finally, he lets out a long breath. “Each person has their own set of boundaries that they alter for every person they encounter. Those people alter their boundaries for each person they encounter. Every relationship is a unique organism of boundaries that ebbs and flows based on infinite variables of circumstances and conditions. You don’t control boundaries, they control you. ”

“But don’t you think we each have an intrinsic code, even if it varies?”

“No.”

“No?”