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over
him.
    “Sorry, he insists on seeing Elizabeth,”
Austin interrupts, shrugging his shoulders innocently, as he sets
the frail doctor on his feet. All at once, I remember Dr. Emerick
saying that he was Dr. Kappel’s colleague and I hold my breath as
he slowly approaches the bed, his eyes fixated on Elizabeth, who
watches him wearily.
    “Elizabeth Marie Kappel,” he whispers. “The
last time I saw you, you were graduating from high school. Now look
at you all grown up and more beautiful than ever.” The recognition
comes slowly but when it does, she gasps out loud.

CHAPTER
FOUR
CAT
    As I stare into the eyes of Mr. Harrington,
the man waiting for me to confess the truth about the psychokinetic
events caught on video, I recall one of the few times I ever lied
to my parents. I was about 11 years old and found an injured baby
bird in our yard and desperately wanted to save it. When my parents
asked me what I was doing with a syringe, I snuck from their
medical bag, I told them I needed it for a school project. Over the
course of two days, I watched the little bird become weaker and
weaker in spite of my attempts to feed it by grinding up worms to
push through the syringe into its open mouth. I wanted to ask for
my parent’s help, but feared they would make me set it free, a
certain death sentence for the helpless bird. Now as Mr. Harrington
stares coldly down at me from the podium, I am faced with a similar
dilemma of deciding which option holds the most promise for the
innocent people at his mercy. The longer I can keep my growing
abilities a secret, the greater chance I have of gaining the trust
of Zane, and finding the location of our parents. On the other
hand, if I reveal to them right now that I’m the Golden GEM and
prove it with a few impressive demonstrations, they may negotiate
letting our parents go in exchange for my loyalty. My intuition
tells me to go with the first option, so I carefully formulate a
response that I hope will satisfy the tyrant.
    “It’s Ronan. He found me, and was just
trying to comfort me by letting me know that he was there with
me—that’s all,” I say, trying to steady my quivering voice. I can
tell by the smirk on his face that he doesn’t believe me, so I try
a different tactic. “Wait, you don’t think I have the same powers
as the Designers do you?” I ask incredulously, throwing in a
chuckle to accentuate my disbelief. For the briefest second, he
looks uncertain then he glances in the direction of his men, gives
a slight nod and says, “If that is the case, then I’m sure you
won’t mind if we run a few tests on you.” The words barely leave
his lips before Zane jumps up from his seat, looking at his father
with pure contempt.
    “NO—WE HAD A DEAL!” he hollers. “You’re not
taking her off this island,” Zane says through clenched teeth.
    Mr. Harrington narrows his gaze at Zane.
“Son," he says in an icy voice that lacks endearment, "You don’t
give the orders around here—I do.” Senior turns to his men, “Get
the girl and let’s go.” I watch Zane reach in his pocket and pull
out a small black disk, before I know what's happening he's
pressing down firmly in the center of it, while simultaneously
knocking me to the concrete floor. Within a matter of seconds,
Zane’s father and his men start coughing.
    “There’s a mask under your chair—put it on
and push the button on the side,” Zane orders, covering my nose
with a cloth, and I look up to see a light mist flowing from the
ceiling vents. He doesn’t need to explain a thing when I see Mr.
Harrington and his men stagger to keep their balance. I do exactly
as I’m told. “It’ll give you up to seven minutes of oxygen if you
don’t hyperventilate.”
    “You son-of-a-bitch. Stop him,” Mr.
Harrington chokes, frantically trying to cover his nose and mouth
while his men stumble towards us.
    “Run!” Zane’s muffled voice commands, and my
body leaps in to action, racing for the exit door,