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«What brings you in here?» he asked.

I glanced over both shoulders before responding. «I need a favor.»

«After you helped me land that girl from accounting? Anything.»

I cringed at the mention of that. I hadn’t wanted to do it, but the technician had been persistent. Using memory restorations as a way to manipulate women was something a few of the other coders did. But I personally liked to keep my nose clean, stay out of trouble. Which made my presence here weigh that much stronger on my mind.

«There was a delivery here two weeks ago,” I said. «I need to know who the recipient was. Can you check the logs?»

The technician guffawed. «You’ll have to be a bit more specific than that. We get hundreds of deliveries a day.»

«A fruit basket,” I replied anxiously. «He was delivering a fruit basket.»

The technician turned toward his system and initiated the search. I held my breath as the computer spit out one result. A security log documenting the entrance of a delivery from Sunset Valley Flowers and Gifts. Exactly two weeks ago. At 2:34 p. m.

«That one.» I pointed at the screen.

The technician selected the file, but nothing happened. He tried again before finally noticing the small icon adjacent to it, in the shape of a red letter X.

«It’s locked,” he informed me.

«Locked? What does that mean?»

«Classified.»

My heart hammered at the thought of losing my one and only lead. My one and only path to her. «Can’t you get around it?»

The technician released a low whistle. «A C9? No way. There’d be guards swarming the place in seconds if I even attempted to crack the encryption.»

I sighed and scuffed the floor with the toe of my shoe. «Well, can you at least tell me what gate he was admitted into?»

The technician glanced at the screen. «Southeast entrance.»

«Southeast entrance?» I repeated in disbelief. «But they shut that down years ago. There’s nothing even back there.»

The technician shrugged. «Evidently something’s back there.»

Chapter Three

I knew my minutes were numbered as the gate closed behind me and I stepped into pitch–black desert night. It would only be a matter of time before they recognized that the fingerprint I used to enter the restricted area was a fake. Lifted from Dr. Solara’s coffee cup earlier that night.

I convinced myself that all I had to do was lay eyes on the girl, confirm that she was real and not a figment of the boy’s wild imagination, and then I would be done with this. Forever. I would go back to my station at the lab and forget this ever happened.

I felt like I’d been walking for miles when I finally came across the concrete wall, towering high above my head. I secured the flashlight between my teeth and began to climb, holding the image of the girl’s face in my mind as the skin of my palms scraped unpleasantly against the rough cement.

My head had barely cleared the top when my eyes landed on something on the other side.

Her.

And then suddenly everything seemed to stand still. My entire body was frozen. Transfixed. It wasn’t until I started slipping back down the surface of the wall that I managed to snap out of my daze and keep myself from falling.

She was looking out the window of a small house, lit from the inside. As she stared into the night, I couldn’t help but think that she looked …

Lonely.

The light of my flashlight bounced across her face and her gaze darted toward me, fear distorting her perfect features.

And for the briefest, most blissfully joyous moment of my life, our gazes intersected. Those remarkable purple eyes radiated through the pitch blackness like tiny luminous orbs of light. Her beauty lit up the entire desert night.

She was real. And yet surreal at the same time.

But most important, she was right there.

And in that moment, I knew I would never be able to forget her. Even if we never spoke a single word to each other, even if this brief glimpse of her was all I would ever get, I knew I would never be able to go back to work tomorrow and pretend that none of it had happened.

I understood exactly why the delivery boy had returned day in and day out, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would risk everything to do the same.

No matter the consequences.

I stayed there, utterly mesmerized. Half of my body hoisted over the top of the wall, the other half dangling down the side. I didn’t feel the pinch at the back of my neck until it was too late.

And then I was falling.

Falling.

Falling.

But I never hit the ground.

When my eyes dragged open again, I was here. Immediately recognizing the peaceful seaside scenery that covered every inch of the room’s four walls. I knew it because I’d built it. I’d programmed the simulation during my first job at the company. Before I’d been promoted to this very department.

The chair felt hard against my back. I marveled at how I’d never actually sat in it before. Never realized how incredibly uncomfortable it was.

I resolved not to struggle. I knew it was pointless. And I didn’t want to be like everyone else.