She’s at the police station on North Washington, but they won’t let me take her. “Mom, if you get this message, I found Amber. “Nobody’s picking up.” I “try” again, without pressing dial. With the officer watching me, I have to punch in numbers, but I never place the call. “Everyone panicked when Amber disappeared. “I don’t know where they are,” I plead, inventing rapidly. “Squad car brought her in half an hour ago. “How come it’s you who came for your sister instead of your folks?” What’s the point of ID in a town where everybody knows everybody else? I’ve never had any identification-none of us have. “Uh-no.” The question throws me a little. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any ID? Student card? Bus pass?” It’s kind of scary how totally easily the whoppers trip off my tongue as I launch into my story about the psychiatrist’s appointment, and how “Dad” drove us in from Pueblo just that morning. I’m her sister, Victoria.” Malik might be right about me and lying. Her whole purpose was to bring the law down on Project Osiris. Amber might have given them a fake name, but I doubt it. “Excuse me, I think my sister was brought here.” Everything is beige, and you can tell most of it didn’t start out that way. This looks like the place old desks go to die. My first thought is: Who decorated this place? In Serenity, everything is brand-new and really nice: tasteful colors, rich fabrics, stylish furniture.
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