Keefe looked about as convinced by those suggestions as she was.

She wished she could think of some brilliant solution, but… the man Keefe remembered could literally be anywhere on the planet, and they only had cameras searching one city.

If only they could tap into, like… a human spy satellite or something. Then they could at least cover a lot more ground. But she doubted Dex’s Technopath skills stretched all the way to outer space—and even if they did, there would still be lots of places the satellite didn’t cover because human tech wasn’t that powerful. And the elves didn’t…

“Wait,” Sophie said, wincing as she straightened up. “Is Mr. Forkle still here?”

“He might be,” Keefe said. “Why?”

“Go check,” Sophie told him, wishing she’d thought of this sooner. “If he is, tell him I need to talk to him right now.”

“About what?” Mr. Forkle asked from the doorway, and Sophie jumped—then winced.

“Whatever it is, it can wait,” Livvy cut in, shoving Mr. Forkle aside to make her way over to Sophie, with Elwin right at her heels.

Edaline was with them too, and she held Sophie’s hand the whole time that Elwin and Livvy did their exam—which was mostly Livvy asking, “Does this hurt?” before poking Sophie somewhere, while Elwin flashed various orbs of colored light around Sophie’s body and studied her through his funny spectacles.

The answer, unfortunately, was always, “Ow, yes.”

And the final verdict seemed to be that everything was on the right track—but Sophie still had a long way to go. They also didn’t think she’d be up for taking any elixirs for at least another day.

Including pain medicine.

“Why is it so much worse this time?” Sophie asked, sucking air through her teeth as Livvy made her lie back flat again and her muscles punished her for the movement. “I mean, I know you messed with my heart a little, but last time you gave me double the amount of limbium so…”

“The heart is much more sensitive than people realize,” Livvy said gently. “And so much more vulnerable. It can’t defend itself the way the mind can—and I don’t mean physically,” she added when she noticed Sophie’s frown. “From a physical standpoint, they’re both vital organs, and any sort of serious strike or blow would be Game Over. But from an emotional standpoint, the brain can think through feelings and talk us into or out of them.”

“Tell me about it,” Ro muttered from Sophie’s closet.

“See?” Livvy said. “The ogre princess knows what I’m talking about. It’s a defense mechanism that the heart simply doesn’t have. The heart feels what it feels, whether we want it to or not. So messing with it the way I did takes a much bigger toll, even on a physical level. This isn’t a perfect metaphor, but… try to think of it as I poked a hornet’s nest. And you got stung. And I’m really sorry.”

“Me too,” Elwin said.

Edaline squeezed Sophie’s hand.

“The good news,” Mr. Forkle told her, “is you made the right decision with the pill you selected. I can already feel your heart and mind communicating in ways they never have before.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Are you reading my thoughts right now?”

“Not in the way you’re assuming,” Mr. Forkle assured her. “I realize you haven’t given me permission. So you’re going to have to tell me what it is you needed to discuss—unless you want me to find the answer myself.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sophie said, glancing at Livvy and Elwin and deciding it wouldn’t matter if they heard. “I need you to do me a favor.”

Mr. Forkle sighed. “If this has to do with—”

“It doesn’t,” Sophie interrupted. “I’m not focusing on that right now—though the fact that I trusted you with my life again when you still won’t trust me with that information—”

“What information?” Livvy interrupted.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mr. Forkle insisted.

Sophie decided it did. So she told Livvy and Elwin, “He won’t tell me who my biological parents are. Even though I deserve to know.”

“You definitely deserve to know that,” Elwin agreed, narrowing his eyes at Mr. Forkle.

“Some secrets must be kept, even from those deserving,” Mr. Forkle countered.

Livvy groaned.

“I’m not saying that to pressure anyone into telling me right now,” Sophie emphasized, turning back to Mr. Forkle. “But I need something else—and since I just took a huge risk for you, and you still won’t give me the other information I really need, I don’t think you should be allowed to say no to this. Especially since it’s a very reasonable request.”

Mr. Forkle pursed his lips, looking both wary and amused by her assertiveness. “That’s quite the sales pitch, Miss Foster. But you realize you’re going to have to actually tell me what you want before I can decide if I’ll be able to help you, right?”

Sophie glanced at Keefe and said, “Show him the drawing.”

Keefe’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t argue or question her. And as he flipped to the right page in the silver notebook, Sophie explained about Keefe’s shattered memory and their plan to find the guy using the CCTV cameras.

“So this is why you and Mr. Dizznee went to London?” Mr. Forkle asked, taking the notebook from Keefe to study the man’s face more closely. When she nodded, he asked, “Why do you need my help?”

“Well… so far, none of the London cameras have found the guy. And I’m starting to worry that it might be because he doesn’t live in London anymore. It’s been a few years and humans move around.”

“They do indeed,” Mr. Forkle agreed, turning to study the drawing from a different angle.

She waited to speak again until he met her eyes, hoping her stare made it clear that what she was about to demand wasn’t optional. “That’s why I want you to take Dex to Watchward Heath.”

“What’s Watchward Heath?” Keefe asked.

“Forkle’s secret office,” Sophie told him. “Or one of them, at least. He brought me there a few days ago and showed me how it gives him access to thousands and thousands of camera feeds—and that’s exactly what we need. So now Mr. Forkle’s going to take Dex there, and let Dex do his Technopath thing. And if our guy is anywhere on this planet—we’ll find him.”

TWENTY-NINE

IF I AGREE TO WHAT you’re asking,” Mr. Forkle said, glancing slowly between Sophie and Keefe, “and let’s be clear that what I mean by that is, if I allow Mr. Dizznee to do his ‘Technopath thing,’ as you put it, to the cameras feeding into my private office, I expect to be fully kept in the loop on this project’s progress from this point forward—and I don’t mean simply with this particular memory. I mean with all of the memories you decide to investigate in the future.”

He held Keefe’s stare as he slowly flipped to the next page of the silver notebook, as if he was testing to see if Keefe would try to stop him.