“I—Finn,” Asher begins. I glare at her.

          “I have nothing to say to you,” I snap. I back away from her, sitting heavily on my cot.

          She continues anyway. “I didn’t know that’s what he was planning,” she says. “Using you as some kind of weapon.”

          “Yeah, right,” I grumble.

          “It’s true,” she grumbles right back.

          I shoot to my feet, crossing the cell to glare at her. “Is that why you’ve been so kind to me?” I snap. “Why you tested me a week ago? So when your daddy revealed his plans I’d be—what, open to it?” My voice rises, and with it I feel my face heat. My hands clench into fists at my sides. On the other side of the glass, Asher’s scowl is venomous.

          “You really think I’d sink that low?” she growls.

          “I don’t even know you! For all I know, you might!” I brace my hands on my narrow hips, clamping my lips shut to keep my voice from escalating into a shout. I take a few deep, steadying breaths before I speak again. “I won’t do his work just to die here,” I say, my throat raw.

          I sigh and swallow the lump in my throat. “My brother died here, alone and scared and tortured for who knows how long for something he had no control over. My mom—she’s alone. And because of this—this stupid fucking curse, I’m a goddamn science experiment and your father wants to turn me into a weapon.

          “I won’t do it. I—I won’t see my mom ever again, won’t have my life back again… I don’t want to die here like my brother,” I finish, almost whispering. My vision blurs, and I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.

          “Who was he?” Asher says quietly.

          I shrug. “Why do you care?” I ask. She only repeats her question. I sigh and answer, “Aiden. My big brother’s name was Aiden.”

          Asher is quiet for a long time. “I’m not asking you to help my father,” she says. “I’m just asking you to trust me.”

           I frown at her. “How can I trust you?”

           She steps close to the glass. “Because you did before you knew who my father was, didn’t you?” she asks.

          I shrug. “As much as I could, I guess,” I concede.

          She gets so close to the glass that her breath fogs it, and lowers her voice to nearly nothing. “Then trust me again,” she hisses. I shake my head but don’t back away.

          “Your brother is alive, Finn,” she says, so softly I can barely hear her. “And I can make sure you see him again. I can get you out.”