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Holt came for me after three days.

“Did your mother ever tell you your real name?” he asked. His mouth twisted on the word mother like he’d tasted something bitter.

We were walking down a narrow tunnel. It was just the two of us, though I bore no illusions of escaping. For one thing, I was 100 percent sure Holt was armed. For another, Chan was still in our room, twiddling his thumbs while he waited for me to come back after Holt was done with me. Just because I wasn’t sure whether I could trust Chan didn’t mean I was willing to leave him here to rot. He’d put up quite a fuss when he found out he wasn’t allowed on this little excursion, all because he wanted to keep me safe. Practically turned himself into a punching bag for the trouble.

The result was the same. I was alone with Holt, and I had no idea what to say that wouldn’t put me in the same position as Chan.

I didn’t answer Holt, and he grunted. “Karma. Your real name is Karma.” He led me down another path with a wall of bunk beds that had metal frames blasted into the wall. This must be where the majority of his employees slept. Like wannabe gangster sardines.

“You were supposed to be my revenge on the world,” Holt said. “My champion at my side. The one person I could trust to take over my business and pick up where I’d left off if I didn’t succeed.”

I tried to imagine a childhood where I’d grown up with Holt as my father, being brainwashed into believing it was my birthright to manipulate the governments of the world, or be taught that violence was the answer to everything. I tried, and failed.

Holt continued talking, unconcerned by my silence. “Your mother used to share my vision.” He stopped in front of a door, and I realized he’d brought me to the lab. This whole underground bunker was like a giant oval. One half was the sleeping quarters and the other half was the cafeteria, the lab, and weapons operation with access to the outside world.

“We’d talk for hours,” Holt said, “about how the government is broken and power can’t be voted in; it’s something you take by force.”

He’d talk for hours was more likely. Just like he was carrying the conversation now. Some people really didn’t know how to interpret social cues. But I knew my mom better than he did. She wasn’t the type to assert her dominance over anyone. She wouldn’t even kill spiders. She caught them in a cup and let them outside to “live their best lives and make little spider babies.”

“You remind me of her.” Holt opened the lab door with his key fob, and it beeped. “I guess that’s why I keep giving you chances when I wouldn’t for anyone else.” He looked at me from under hooded eyebrows as he held open the door. “But that won’t last forever.”

Ah, there it was. The threat. It was like he couldn’t help himself.

“I know.” I didn’t bother hiding the fear in my voice. He struck me as the type of person who liked to know when he was winning.

“Once upon a time she saw the benefit of what I was doing,” Holt said as I followed him into the lab. “I think, given enough time, you can too.”

My bet—my hope —was that my mom didn’t know who Holt was when she got involved with him. That she fell in love with him before he let his true colors show. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to fall in love with him any other way.

But I didn’t say that. Because I was my mother’s daughter. And I knew when to say things and when to shut up in order to stay alive. Well, correction—I did now. Maybe I’d pushed a few buttons when I’d gotten here, but I was learning that Holt was not a man to be trifled with. If staying silent got my mom out of here alive, then I was going to live by her playbook from here on out. Maybe I had a tendency to get overheated and blow things up, but I was all about teaching an old dog new tricks these days.

I just had to figure out what it was Holt wanted from me, and play the part. He’d loosen the tether, and eventually Chan and I would be home free.

That was the new plan, at least.

Play along, play nice, play pretend. Stay alive.

How hard could it be? Holt was already deluded.

If he wanted a child he could raise to stand by his side and take over the family business, then I would be that girl. Obviously I couldn’t flip the switch right away or Holt would get suspicious, but I could show him I could be an asset rather than a pain in the ass-et . Slowly I’d make him think I was coming around.

“Why’d she leave?” I asked. “I didn’t even know about you in order to ask her the story.”

Holt turned on the lights, and I was once again struck by how impressively well lit this lab was in comparison to the rest of the tunnels.

Holt surveyed the room with narrowed eyes, then walked from table to table, inspecting each drawer’s contents while I stood there with my hands in my pockets. Who knew if this was a ritual he did every time or just since the pills went missing, but I didn’t want to bring attention to myself right about now.

Holt finished inspecting the final table and straightened before facing me. “Other people turned your mother against me. She was too weak to see their manipulation.”

Or she’d finally seen the light. You know, tomato, to-mah-to.

“But you don’t strike me as weak.” He crossed his arms. “You’re a fighter. You just need to see you’re fighting for the wrong side.”

So that was it then. Holt wanted to be the one to break me. There was something decidedly disturbing about that.

Maybe that was the real reason my mom had left. She’d seen what he was capable of and gotten out of there while she still could. And when Holt showed his true colors, my mom couldn’t help but show she wasn’t happy. At least a little bit. Holt knew she wanted to leave before she actually did.

Well, if I could believe anything Holt said. Since he was a wanted criminal, the jury was still out.

He walked over to a table and picked up a green vial, tilting it in his hand so the liquid caught the fluorescent lights and practically glowed.

“I hear you know a thing or two about chemical engineering.” Holt held the vial out to me. “This solution has taken me almost a decade to perfect. I want to see what you make of it.”

Was this some kind of test? Obviously. But what was the expected outcome? Did he think I would refuse to study the vial? Lie about what I knew?

I glanced at his face to see if it would give me any clues, but Holt was like a slab of concrete. To buy myself time, I took the vial over to a table and pulled out a chair.

“Do you have the chemical composition of what’s in the vial?” I asked. Sure, I could run the tests if he had the proper equipment. But Holt didn’t exactly strike me as a patient guy.

Sure enough, he slid the papers in front of me and took a seat at my side. With his stature and build, he might as well have stayed standing—the hovering effect was the same.

The papers weren’t the same as the ones I’d read previously. These only included the chemical makeup of the current solution I had in my hand, with no further explanation. Holt’s trust only went so far apparently. Still, I read the paper like I was studying for a final exam or putting together an explosive. Every detail mattered.

Holt got tired of my silence. “Tell me about this boyfriend of yours, Karma,” he said. “He’s a fighter like you, but what exactly does he fight for?”

My fingers curled into a fist underneath the table. Hearing him call me by another name was a slap to the face. I’d been cut off from everybody I knew, I had no control over my situation, and now he’d taken away my name. I could feel my identity slipping further from my reach with every second I was trapped beneath the surface. Yes, I could recognize it as emotional manipulation. But that didn’t make it any easier to handle.

I chewed my lip while I debated what to say that wouldn’t get me killed. What did Chan fight for?

“Me, I guess,” I said with a shrug.

Truth. But something told me that as a government employee, he wouldn’t take too kindly to someone trying to dismantle the entire system the way Holt was asking about either.

I picked up the papers, but my brain could only focus on the way Holt had called me Karma. The word bounced around my head until I felt physically sick. Who knew such a little thing would have such a big effect?

Holt took all this in, nodding slowly as I set the papers down.

“What is it you want to know about this?” I squared my shoulders and tilted the vial so the green liquid swirled around in its glass container.

“This liquid is the same thing I have inside the pills you saw earlier. I call it the kill pill.”

I swallowed and tried to keep my expression neutral. Holt was watching me carefully though, and his face started to take on a feverish glow.

“Would you like to know what it does?” he asked.

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing it kills people,” I said dryly.

He shook his head. “It doesn’t just kill people. You’re thinking too small. Too short-sighted. It’s a small tablet with a soluble exterior that instantly dissolves in any liquid and is practically undetectable by whoever tastes it. The person taking the pill feels fine and won’t even notice anything is wrong until they go to sleep. Once their heart rate gets below resting though, they’ll immediately have a heart attack and go into cardiac arrest.”

I couldn’t help it. I shuddered while I digested this news.

This time, Holt didn’t seem to notice. He was in his own world now, eyes focused somewhere in the distance like he was having a spiritual experience.

When he spoke again, his voice was tinged with mania. “My favorite part is that the drug is completely untraceable. Because I’m nowhere near the victim when they die, there’s nothing for authorities to investigate. It all looks one hundred percent organic, like the target died of natural causes.”

Holt was practically giddy. I, on the other hand, felt nauseated.

From the moment I’d learned my father’s identity, I knew he was a bad dude. But this was pure evil.

“So this is how you plan to take over the world?” I asked. “Your pill can be used against politicians, dignitaries, military personnel, you name it. Basically if someone looks at you wrong, you can take them out without even a weapon.”

Holt’s smile was smug. “Not only that, but I can sell it to the highest bidder. The kill pill and its antidote, which people can take every day as an insurance policy against being assassinated—I can sell them both.”

A daily antidote? He’d be richer than the king of England. I was sure Holt himself took the antidote, so it wasn’t like he could even be targeted. He was immune.

“Why tell me all this now?” I shifted the papers on the desk in front of me. “Aren’t you worried I’ll take this information to the authorities?”

Holt laughed. “How?” He spread his arms, and I felt the panic creep in around the corners.

He was right. I was never getting out of here.

Holt leaned in and placed his elbows on the table. I tried to scoot back in my chair without making it obvious that his attempts to intimidate me were working.

“Besides,” Holt said, “now you know what I’m capable of. If you ever step out of line again.”

That was it then. The real reason he let me in on his plans. He provided me with food and water every day. He could easily slip the kill pill into my drink and I’d never know it. It wasn’t like I could refuse to drink for more than a few days. I’d die either way.

My eyes widened, and Holt patted me on the shoulder. Like I was a good dog.

He took the vial from me and slipped it into his pocket. “Now,” he said, “the pills are obviously a more convenient way for me to carry the formulation around in its required dosage amount, which is why I had it made that way. But the reason I had you look at the chemical composition of the liquid was to tell me whether it could be aerosolized.”

Aerosolized? I nearly choked. So it wasn’t good enough that Holt had a deadly pill that could kill someone undetected. He wanted a mass chemical weapon.

“Don’t you have scientists who can answer that for you?” My stomach roiled, and I swallowed back a sour taste in my throat.

“I killed my head scientist a month ago when she finally delivered the finished pills. She’d taken too long to get to that point and was of no more use to me.”

I bet Holt regretted that now. See, this is why you don’t kill people without thinking about it first.

Or, you know, at all.

“She had a small team working for her,” Holt continued. “I used to keep them here until it became too conspicuous. They aren’t on-site anymore, and my communication with them is limited.” He turned in his chair and looked me up and down. “Now that you’re here, the CIA is breathing down my neck, and I prefer to keep my actions on the down-low. Of course, I might decide it isn’t worth it.”

What he meant was, he might decide I wasn’t worth it. That keeping me alive wasn’t worth holding up his operations anymore. I had a sudden daydream of using the materials in this lab to “accidentally” burn off his eyebrows while working on this project for him since he liked to hover so much. I wondered whether I might be able to make that fantasy a reality. He’d probably retaliate by slipping the kill pill in my drink.

I cleared my throat. “You would need some way of dispersing the aerosolized vapor.” My voice came out hoarse and I swallowed. “In medicine they use things like a nebulizer or inhaler to bring the medicine directly into people’s lungs.”

A crease appeared between Holt’s eyebrows. He was likely trying to figure out how to make someone take a puff of an inhaler voluntarily and realizing his pill was the better way to go. Hopefully that was what he was thinking.

What I didn’t tell him? Inhalers were made to give people a measured dose of medication. If Holt wanted to kill an entire roomful of people by vaporizing the liquid form of his kill pill and pushing it through the air vents…well, there was nothing stopping him.

Nothing except the knowledge that it was possible.

“You’ll figure it out,” Holt said. “If you’re motivated enough.”

Well, that was ominous.

He pushed away from the table and stood. “Our time today is up. I’m a busy man. Be thinking about what I told you for when I come get you tomorrow.”

What part? The part where he thought my mother was once on his side? Or his subtle threats that I was supposed to replace his head scientist or suffer the same fate, aka death? His even less subtle threats that he could use the kill pill on me at any moment? Or the worst part of all—Holt was going to come for me again tomorrow, and he expected me to “figure it out”?

Really, things just kept getting better. I stood up on shaky legs and followed him back to my room, keeping silent the whole time. I wanted no part in Holt’s kill pill experiment. But I needed him to think I was on his side.

I just didn’t know how to make those two things coexist.