Griffin gave me a tight-lipped look and said, “I have people who give me information.” Then she turned to Simon and explained, “Tyler’s a good kid. He’s fitting in here—”

But I cut her off as I spun on Simon now, unsure who I was more upset with: Griffin for laying one of those Finders-Keepers claims on Tyler—my Tyler—or Simon for not helping me get to him first. “Did you know?”

Simon threw his hands up, hostage-style. “Leave me out of this. I had no idea what she was up to.” Simon looked at Griffin instead of me, and I couldn’t help thinking of our conversation about Tyler that day in the library, when Simon told me I couldn’t wait for Tyler forever.

“Okay, yes, Simon told me you were looking for a boy. Someone who was important to you,” she said in a pacifying voice as she tried to smooth things over. “But how was I supposed to know you were the same Kyra Tyler had been talking about?”

“How many Kyras do you know?” I asked, but there was no point arguing. Griffin held all the cards. She was in charge of whether I would see Tyler again, or not. The best thing I could do was keep my mouth shut.

She gave me a condescending smile. “Look. Tyler didn’t know much when he got here. He didn’t remember how he’d been taken, and he certainly didn’t say anything about having a girlfriend back home.” I hated the way she was determined to remind me of that. She seemed to enjoy making it clear that his memories didn’t include me, at least not the important parts.

He didn’t remember the day I’d stumbled into his kitchen and fallen into his arms, mistaking him for Austin. Or the beautiful chalk drawings he’d done for me. Or taking me to his favorite bookstore and leaving me gifts outside my window and sending me messages at all hours of the night.

He also didn’t remember any of the things that had gone wrong after I’d cut myself on that box knife right in front of him, contaminating him . . . and the way he’d gotten sicker and sicker until I’d been left with no choice but to drag him up to Devil’s Hole to be taken.

As far as he was concerned, I’d vanished five years ago and had never come back.

And now Griffin acted like her claim on Tyler trumped our history together, as if none of those things ever existed at all.

Simon surprised me then, when he said to me, “This must be hard on you,” because it had to be hard on him too. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, watching me anxiously. I tried to tell myself he didn’t seem worried that Tyler was here, and that worried wasn’t the same as threatened.

But I knew better. I could see it written all over his face: Simon wanted more, and I couldn’t help wondering if he’d hoped we’d never find Tyler at all.

I couldn’t worry about Simon’s feelings, or the fact that Tyler couldn’t remember me. All that mattered was that we’d found him, and I was determined to make him remember me if it was the last thing I ever did.

“When can I see him again?” I begged Griffin, still frustrated she’d sent Tyler away with Nyla. “Please. I’ll do anything.” I refused to acknowledge that hurt-puppy look in Simon’s eyes, and ignored his words altogether.

“I’ll have Nyla bring him to us, but first . . . there was a reason I was looking for you,” Griffin said slowly, her voice sticky. “Jett needs to show you something.”

Jett. I’d waited days to see Jett again, face-to-face.

I followed clumsily, eager to reach Jett, to hear what he had to tell me, and just as twisted up about when I’d get to see Tyler again. Griffin led Simon and me to the same white building where I’d spied her and Jett earlier while I’d been doing drills with Natty. She knocked again, the same way she had then, only once, and then we, too, slipped inside.

It wasn’t only Jett I was reunited with inside—Willow was there too, safe and sound. When she saw me, she winked at me.

Winked, as if to say: Hey pal, long time no see. It was completely surreal.

If Griffin hadn’t been there, watching our every move, I might have hugged Willow because it was so damn good to see her again. But the last thing I wanted was to give Griffin even the slightest insight into my state of mind. She already had enough ammunition to use against me, having her hooks in Tyler and all.

So instead of hugging, or even winking, at her, I lifted my chin, which had to make me seem totally stuck up, but it also kept my feelings where they needed to be: under lock and key.

“What is this place?” I asked, my eyes landing on Jett as I gave him that same aloof nod I’d given Willow.

He looked unsure for a minute, and I wondered if it was because of my greeting or the question. But then he scratched his cheek and said, “It’s the computer lab. Pretty fancy digs, right?”

He wasn’t wrong. The first thing I noticed, besides how much warmer it was in here, probably from all the electrical equipment—the computers and monitors crammed into such close quarters, making it downright stuffy—was that it was a lot like the place Jett had kept back at his old camp. Back at the abandoned Hanford site when I’d first met him. I was impressed.

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“Since the first day we got here.” He grinned at Griffin and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Been workin’ ever since.”

Not you too, Jett? I wanted to shake some sense into him, but I could hardly blame him for falling under her spell. Talk about finding the key to Jett’s heart.