Part of me was hoping for the spark we’d been missing, but as reassuring as it was to have him there, planning and strategizing with us, that was all it was: a familiar comfort. The boost of confidence I needed to go through with this. If there was a hole in the plan—a real hole, and not simply Dr. Hatchet’s fears about losing me—then he would tell us.
“Okay,” said Greyson, looking back and forth between us. “First chance we get.”
I nodded, my heart racing. We could do this. We could really do this. “First chance we get.”
* * *
That chance didn’t come for weeks.
With Greyson busy tinkering with his bug, and with Dr. Hatchet catering to Daxton’s every want and whim, I was left largely on my own each day. Sometimes I sketched while Greyson worked; sometimes I watched the news. But mostl
