The next morning, Aryyah woke to find Jackson standing in the doorway of the guest room, still dressed in his pajamas, his hair disheveled, his face drawn and tired; he looked like he hadn't slept at all and when their eyes met, she saw something in his expression that might have been regret or desperation or both.

She sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around her shoulders, and waited for him to speak.

"We need to talk," Jackson said, his voice hoarse.

Aryyah glanced at the clock on the ...