Conjured by Sarah Beth Durst

the fissures. “Left,” Eve said, trying to chase the memory. “And then left again.”
    Aidan careened left.
    The lot opened onto another street. At the light, Aidan yanked the wheel to the left again. “And we’re behind him,” Aidan said. “
That
, Green Eyes, is why I love you.”
    He …
She felt as if her brain stalled at those words. The memory evaporated. Music from the radio pounded in her head. It had to be an expression—just something he said in the moment, right? Her brain couldn’t have forgotten something as momentous as falling in love.
    He drove up behind the black car and leaned on the horn. He then pulled around the black car, waved, and drove slowly and sedately to the parking lot of a restaurant with a neon sign that read MARIO’S HOUSE OF PIZZA. He parked and turned off the engine.
    The black car parked beside them.
    The window rolled down, and Malcolm glared at them.
    Unclipping his seat belt, Aidan shot out of his seat and planted his lips on Eve’s. His lips were hard, and his breath was warm. Eyes open wide, Eve didn’t move.
    Laughing, Aidan climbed out of the car and stretched. Slowly, Eve got out of the car. She trotted to Malcolm’s window. Before he could speak, she said, “You could have warnedme.” She meant about everything: Aidan picking her up, whatever relationship she had with him, the fact that Malcolm would be following her.
    “You asked to come here,” Malcolm said.
    “I did?”
    “Lou told you it could help, exposure to others.”
    She digested that. “What do you think—” Before she could finish the question, Aidan put his hand on her shoulder.
    “One slice of pepperoni,” Malcolm said. “Extra cheese.” He rolled the window back up again.
    “Come on, Green Eyes. Garlic knots won’t eat themselves.” Aidan trotted to the door of Mario’s House of Pizza. She glanced beyond Malcolm’s car toward the traffic light and the strips of stores. She had, for an instant in the middle of the chase, touched her past.
    Maybe exposure to Aidan would help her remember more.
    Eve followed Aidan into the restaurant.
    Inside, Mario’s House of Pizza reeked of burned bread, like Aunt Nicki’s toast, but tinged with the faint sting of antiseptic, like the hospital. The floor was sticky, the décor was red and white, and the tables were mostly empty.
    “Good,” Aidan said. “They’re still here.”
    In one corner, Topher and Victoria had staked out a table. The table was for eight, and three of the empty seats had used paper plates, napkins, and cups in front of them. Topher raised his hand in a half salute, half wave. Victoria looked up from her book and tossed her hair, clearly broadcasting that she’d registered their arrival and was unimpressed.
    Aidan curved his arm around Eve’s waist and deliberately patted her butt. Eve froze, unsure if this was a common occurrence or new, and also unsure what reaction was expected.
    Topher’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. Aidan strolled to the table as if nothing unusual had happened. He parked himself at the table and swept aside the used plates with his arm.
    Feeling Victoria and Topher’s eyes on her, Eve approached the table more slowly and slid into a seat next to Victoria. She wondered when and how they’d switched from trying to kill her to wanting to eat with her—and when and how Aidan had started to say “love.”
    “Sorry we’re late,” Aidan said to Topher and Victoria.
    Victoria studied her. “You missed Nicholas, Melissa, and Emily. But that’s okay—they weren’t worthy of joining us anyway.”
    “Oh.” Eve filed those names away in her head as Victoria and Topher exchanged inscrutable looks. Eve wondered how many others like them there were, as well as the wisdom of allowing them to meet. If they were all in WitSec, wouldn’t it be safer to be separated? Again, a question she couldn’t ask.
    Aidan smiled broadly, and then he planted a kiss on the top of Eve’s head. “One slice of