Elusion(70)

I hesitate briefly, wondering if she’s strong enough to take what I’m about to reveal, but then I think about all I’ve done to look after her, like she said a moment ago, and I feel like she owes me that in return, especially now. But the actual magnitude of what I’ve done doesn’t sink in all the way until I’m ready to confess.

So I blurt it out and get it off my chest as fast as I can.

“I broke into Dad’s old quantum computer at Orexis. Then I copied a bunch of encrypted files onto a QuTap and stole them.”

The stoic look on my mom’s face evaporates in a heartbeat or two. In its place is a cloud of shock.

“Oh my God. Regan, that’s . . . that’s a—”

“Felony? I know.”

She stands up and begins to pace, her hands firmly propped on her hips. “Why? Why would you do something . . . extreme like this?” I can hear the disappointment in her voice.

“It’s because of this Josh, isn’t it?” she adds. “Did he make you do this?”

“No! This was my idea.” I can no longer hold in the emotions I’ve been bottling up for days. I blink back the tears forming in my eyes and turn my head in embarrassment as they begin to fall by the hundreds. “I wanted to find out what was wrong with Elusion.”

“Orexis is responsible for fixing Elusion, not you,” she replies, her tone softening a bit. “Your father understands that there are hidden flaws in any invention. Sometimes accidents are unpreventable.”

“But they aren’t being responsible, and I don’t think this is an accident.” I set Walden down on the mattress and spring off the bed, stepping in front of her. “Patrick has been lying to me. Lying to all of us. He denied there were problems with Elusion. That people were addicted. That people could be harmed. But when I began to investigate things, I knew he wasn’t telling the truth. So I needed to force his hand. Don’t you see? I had to do this.”

My mom raises a skeptical eyebrow and sets the back of her hand upon my forehead. Then her mouth hangs opens a little bit, her lips forming a circle of worry.

“And what about me, Regan? Do you suspect me as well?”

I run my hands through my hair, like Josh does when he’s trying to think straight. It doesn’t help, though.

“No, of course not,” I say. “It’s just that weird things have been happening. When I went to Elusion last week, I saw Dad. He held me and talked to me. It was so real, Mom. He even warned me about Elusion—and then he was somehow snatched away. He disappeared into the firewall.”

Mom doesn’t say anything in response. She just sits down on the edge of my bed, staring at me, totally stunned.

“Patrick said it was some kind of glitch. That he wasn’t really there. I mean—how could he be, unless he was still alive?”

“Regan,” my mom says. “You can’t think . . .” She stops, her breath catching, as if the mere thought is too incredible to even mention. I take a moment to decide what exactly to tell her. I know I shouldn’t give up my one piece of leverage—the passcard—but everything else seems like fair game right now.

“I had to at least look at the possibility. I found the bottle of Zolpidem. You wrote him the prescription.”

I wrap my arms around myself, and although I can feel my temperature rising and my head becoming fuzzy, I press on. “I thought, maybe he became addicted to Elusion and staged that crash. And for one awful second, maybe you knew and were helping him.”

“Why? Why in the world would I do something like that?” Mom says, choking back her own tears.

“Because you didn’t want to tell me the truth—he had a problem. He’d rather be in Elusion than with us.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, taking my hands in hers and then this alarmed expression flashes across her face. “You’re burning up.” She places the back of her hand on my forehead again. “How long have you been sick?”

“I’m not sick!”

“You are. You don’t even know what you’re saying.”


My tongue is thick with suspicion right now. It seems like she wants nothing more than to drop this conversation as soon as possible. Which is too bad, because I haven’t even told her about the number 5020.

“You don’t want to talk about this, do you?”

“You’re too feverish to think straight. You need rest.”

“Why were you writing him prescriptions for a drug that’s strong enough to wake people out of comas? Tell me the truth!”

I didn’t expect to go after her like this. And I didn’t expect the pain to be so visible on her face when I did. What’s happening to me? I can’t be sure, but whatever it is, I’m powerless to stop it.

She looks confused for a moment and then nods, letting go of my hands and turning away from me. “That prescription for your father was for chronic insomnia. He wasn’t sleeping at all when Elusion was getting ready to be sent before the CIT; he was so worried about what might happen. That his life’s work might be rejected.” Her voice cracks every now and then, and each time, it’s like I’m cut into more pieces. I’m afraid I’ve pushed her too far, and when she turns around—her face pale, her eyes weary—that fear is more than realized.