Marryn stood, too, and rested her fists on her hips. “Like hell I don’t,” she retorted. “I already sacrificed one life for them and their war—I’m not doing it again, especially this time, when I haven’t even got a chance!”

“You don’t know that,” Max protested. “Besides, you don’t mean it—I know you don’t. The things you felt, your memories, they say something different. You still feel guilty about what happened.”

“What if I do?” she demanded. “That doesn’t change anything. I feel guilty about a lot of things—starving children in Asia, Hutus and Tutsis killing each other in Africa—but I’m not going to go fight their wars, either.”

“This is different,” Max insisted. “This is our war, too.”

“No, it’s not,” she told him. “Look at us—look at you! Let me guess, you’re an A-B student but you could get all A’s if you applied yourself; you play football, and you’re desperately in love with that dark-haired waitress at the café, so you worked out all summer to impress her and now have abs I could do my laundry on. Am I right?”

“I—I don’t play football,” Max said awkwardly.

In spite of herself, Marryn gave him a sly grin. “But I’m right about the abs, huh?” Then the smile faded to exasperation. “Tell me, are you the picture of a king?” she demanded. “Do you think you’re the kind of guy who steps in and stops a civil war that’s been going on for decades? I gotta tell you, Max—you’re a nice kid, but you’re still just a kid. And if you don’t lay off the ‘chosen one’ bit, you’re never going to find out what kind of man you’ll be.”

“So you’re saying we should just ignore the reason we were sent here?” he asked her. “Do nothing?”

“I don’t care what you do!” she cried. “Light candles, have a fund-raiser, organize a vigil—just leave me out of it.”

“Is that why you came?” he wanted to know. “To tell us you want nothing to do with us?”

“I came here to warn you,” she said icily, and Max wondered what had happened to the quietly reflective, slightly sad Marryn of only a few minutes ago. “You say you destroyed the Skins’ husks—good. They don’t have much time left. With any luck, they’ll die off and you’ll be anonymous again. If you know what’s good for you, stay that way.”

“We can’t do that,” he told her grimly.

“Why not? Because you feel loyalty to a planet you can’t even remember? Because your life here is so rotten?” She shook her head. “You think that other life was so great? Well, it wasn’t. You think you’re afraid now? You don’t know what fear is. Let me tell you something. In that other life, we woke up every day in fear. Raw, naked fear that overshadowed everything else in our lives. Sometimes I dream about that life, and I wake up between that life and this one, and all I can feel is the fear. I can’t breathe, I can’t even scream. Is that what you want to go back to?”

“I never knew we had a choice,” Max answered. What had happened in the White Room rocketed back to his mind, but he pushed it away, not wanting to feel that terror ever again.

“Of course we have a choice. Everyone has a choice. Don’t tell me you believe in destiny, Max. We make our own destiny—surely you’ve discovered that.”

His own words sounded strange coming from her mouth. ‘We make our own destiny.’ He had told Liz that, but did he believe it? Did he live like he believed it? He stepped closer to her. “You mean to say that we should just go along like we’re normal people—just forget the people who are counting on us?”

“Who’s counting on us?” she asked, holding her arms wide. “Our mother? Our mother should be damn glad that we have one shot at a normal life. If she loved us, she should want us to stay right here, safe and—and potentially happy!”

“And if we love her?”

“That’s absurd.” Marryn stamped her foot. “How can you love someone you’ve never met or even seen?”

“I’ve seen her,” Max responded quietly.

“Not the real her,” she insisted. “Just an image we—I mean she—thought would be pleasing to you.” She turned around and restlessly paced the steps in front of the fountain. Two boys Max recognized from his trig class walked by just then, casting admiring glances at the way Marryn’s clothes clung to her tall, lithe body. Without thinking, Max gave them a warning look and they moved away. Marryn, standing on the top step with her hands on her hips and her face turned to the sun, never noticed. At length, she turned back around and squinted down at him. “You know what, Max?” she asked. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t come here to argue with you.”

“Then why did you come here?” he asked.

She walked deliberately down the steps, her heels clicking on the smooth marble. “To tell you to leave me out of this. Maybe you want to go back. I can’t stop you. But I’m not going back. I *like* this life. I like my family, my friends. I’m happy here, and I’m safe—at least a lot safer than I’d be anywhere else. You can’t just go off making decisions for everyone. The things you do. . .they effect all of us. And I don’t want to be effected.”

“That’s all?” Max demanded. “You could have said that in the restaurant.”

“Well, I chose not to,” she said angrily. “I thought maybe I could warn you, but if you aren’t going to listen, maybe I should just go.”

“I can’t stop you.” Max folded his arms, throwing her words back at her.

Her jaw tightened. “No, you can’t,” she agreed haughtily. They stared at one another, eyes locked in a silent challenge. Finally, Marryn’s expression softened. “Look, this is really hard, okay? I try not to think about this. I try to live my life as normal as possible, but I have these memories, and sometimes they just won’t let go of me. Being here and seeing all of you is—it brings it all back, you know?”

“No,” he said slowly, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I’d like to, but. . .Vermont’s waiting for you. Unless you think the snow will wait.”

She gave him a skeptical glance. “You want me to stay?”

He smiled slightly, stepping closer to her. “You come here and drop this bomb about being my sister, you have memories of my past I’ve been looking for my entire life, and you tell me I have a choice about my future?” He nodded emphatically. “Yeah, I think I’d like you to stay.”

“Well. . .” She thought for a moment. “I guess I could stay for a little while. . .maybe a day or so.”

“That sounds good,” Max said. He took a deep breath. “We should go find the others—they’ll want to hear this.” When he held out his hand and she put hers into it, it felt natural, and more than ever Max thought that Marryn’s memories were more important to her than even she knew.

“Think they’ll believe me?” she asked as they headed to her car.