Chapter 1

"Lia, have you made up your mind about the tuition?" My father, Jason Conley, sat at the head of the dining table, cradling the same ceramic mug he'd used for the past ten years.

I was wiping grease off the table with a rag. "I have."

My mother, Meredith Conley, came out of the kitchen with a plate of sliced watermelon and set it on the coffee table. "Good."

She let out a long breath of relief. "Dylan's startup is at a critical stage. He can't afford to have his funding dry up now."

She picked out the reddest slice of watermelon and handed it to my brother, Dylan Conley, who was sitting on the couch playing a video game.

Without even looking up, Dylan leaned over and took a bite. "Thanks, Mom."

Then, his mouth still full, he said to me, "Once I get through this round of funding, I'll take you to pick out a new phone. That piece of junk you have is so slow that it takes you forever to answer my texts. It's a pain."

I glanced down at the old phone sticking halfway out of my pocket. It was Tessa's hand-me-down from her freshman year of college. The upper-right corner of the screen was shattered into a spiderweb of cracks, and I had to tilt it at an angle just to read anything.

"No thanks." I rinsed out the rag and hung it beside the sink.

Tessa was sitting in front of the mirror doing her makeup. "Lia, quit looking so miserable. Everyone voted that day. If you stay local, we'll still get to see each other all the time.

"Besides, why waste that much money on some crappy little teachers college? Mom and Dad are only trying to do what's best for you."

Crappy little teachers college.

My nails dug into my palm. Two weeks ago, I'd earned early admission to Northbridge University. It was one of the top five universities in the country.

I'd pulled more all-nighters than I could count and burned through box after box of pens for that opportunity.

But Tessa said she couldn't bear having me so far away. She said she'd gotten used to eating the breakfasts I made for her and having me pick up her packages.

So Dad called a family vote.

Four to one.

Just like that, Northbridge University was gone. In its place was a local teachers college three subway stops from home, and now they were taking away the tuition for that too.

"I'll start looking for a part-time job this afternoon," I said, turning to face them.

Dad finally tore his eyes away from the TV and looked at me. "That's more like it. We're family. We're supposed to help each other out."

I didn't answer. I turned and went back to my room. It was tiny, with barely enough space for a twin bed and an old desk.

My acceptance letter from the local teachers college was sitting on top of it.

I opened a drawer and shoved the letter all the way to the bottom.

Then I turned on my ancient computer, which took three full minutes to boot up.

When the screen finally came to life, an unread email was waiting in my inbox.

Sender: Blackridge National Research Facility

Subject: [TOP SECRET] Final Confirmation for Lia Conley's Classified Research Program

I opened it.

"Lia Conley, your application has passed final review.

"This program involves federally classified research. All tuition expenses will be covered, and participants will receive a monthly living stipend.

"Please note: The research facility is located in the remote Redstone Desert in the Northwest. Conditions are harsh, and all participants are required to sign a confidentiality agreement.

"Once you confirm your participation, you may not leave the facility without authorization for five years and will have strictly limited contact with the outside world.

"Please upload your background clearance documents and proof of residency transfer within three days."

My hand was perfectly steady on the mouse. Without hesitating, I clicked "Confirm Participation."

Dylan's laughter rang out from the living room. "Tessa, dinner's on me tonight. Let's try that new place that just opened."

"Yes! I've been dying to go!" Tessa cheered.

Mom laughed too. "You two always go overboard when you eat out."

"Come with us, Mom. Dad, you too. Come on."

The four of them excitedly made dinner plans together.

No one knocked on my door.

No one asked, "Lia, do you want to come?"

I stared at the words "Participation Confirmed" on my computer screen. Then I started going through the few pieces of warm clothing I owned.

Winters in the Northwest were probably freezing.