In that second, Sky moved.
She darted into the bathroom on silent feet, grabbed the metallic strand from the sink, and shoved it into her pocket. By the time Miss Calva turned around, Sky was back in the hallway, pressed against the wall, breathing hard.
She ran to a quiet corner, fingers shaking as she opened her hand.
The strand wasn’t hair. It was a wire, thin as thread, with tiny sharp points along it and words carved so small she had to squint.
VLab Prototype 3.
Sky’s stomach dropped.
VLab.
Vale Laboratories.
Eloin’s last name was Vale. Her father’s company did this.
The next morning, Sky waited near the front entrance. Her mother thought she was in the staff kitchen. Instead, she watched the door that everyone seemed to move out of the way for.
A man walked through the foyer—tall, white, in an expensive suit, moving with the brisk confidence of someone who owned the building and most of what he could see. People trailed behind him with tablets and folders, talking quickly.
Ariston Vale.
Sky stepped directly into his path.
He almost tripped.
“What are you—” he started.
Sky held out her hand. The metal strand lay in her palm.