3
Salvador twisted the stopper on the distiller, letting a few drops fall into the collection vial.
The liquid was clear with a purple tint. He frowned, making a note in his experimental log. Salvador couldn’t say for certain, but his instinct told him it needed to be colorless—clearer than spring water. His previous two attempts had failed, getting no reaction, but three times was supposed to be the charm, right?
“I think adding a few more evaporation cycles will achieve the effect you’re searching for.”
Blinking, he glanced up, startled to see someone else in the room. Alec Broussard stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall. A corner of his mouth tilted up. “You forgot I was here, didn’t you?”
“I did. Sorry.” Salvador rose, stretching his stiff limbs. His neck ached from stay
