Author's Note: Heyyy so this one's a Keefe POV. Yay.

I'm assuming you all know by now, but there's going to be a Keeper of the Lost Cities movie! It's going to be directed by Ben Affleck, and Shannon Messenger can't really decide anything about casting or the script (uh-oh, we've all seen the way that turned out with Percy Jackson) but hopefully he'll stick to the book plotline. Also, if he fails, he'll have an army of angry Keeper fans hunting him down. Personally, I think kotlc would be better as a TV show. I mean, the books are pretty long. If they cut any important scenes out, I'm gonna be so mad. Plus, the CGI needs to be on point. Lord of the Rings style. None of that Avatar: the Last Airbender live action crap.

But anyway, all rants aside, enjoy the chapter! Please leave a review! Thank you all so much, I love you all!

She's staring at me again. I caught her looking at me in the elevator, which was strange enough. But now, as we're walking toward the hotel restaurant, she's looking at me again. Her emotions are spiking all over the place, and I can't fathom why.

I've been putting up a calm facade all morning, for her. I want to scream and cry and curl up in bed and never wake up, but. . .

Losing our friends has hit her hard. I can tell. I'm the only support she has left, and I can't fail her.

She never had many friends in the Forbidden Cities, apparently. But over these past four years, she has bonded with our little group. And now, all of that has been undone by my mother.

I grab her hand and send her one of those calming breezes, as she calls them. Just a little bit of comfort, I hope. She squeezes my hand. I follow Sophie through the lobby and to a table, where we order food on a small electronic device. Well, I watch as she orders for both of us. I don't know much about human food.

"I got us crêpes with nutella and whipped cream and strawberries," she says. "They're pretty much the best thing ever."

I nod, thoroughly confused, but I don't say anything.

Sophie smiles halfheartedly. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

I smirk a little. "Nope. Never heard of anything like it."

"Crêpes are basically thin pancakes. Wait a second, you've never had those either. Umm. . ."

"Not sure how to describe them?" I offer.

Sophie sighs. "Yeah. You'll see when we get them. Basically, when our food is ready, this thing will make a noise." Sophie points to the device. "Then, I'll go up to the counter and get our food. Then we can. . . eat."

She says the last word with extra emphasis, as if she's suggesting that we're going to do something else.

Oh. We need to come up with a plan of some sort. I suppose she means we should talk in my head, formulate a plan. I nod.

We wait for our food in painfully awkward silence, listening to the chatter of the restaurant all around us, so many normal humans going about their normal lives, unaware that we are out of place.

I notice that Sophie keeps sneaking glances at me when she thinks I'm not looking. She keeps forgetting that I'm an Empath. Try as I might to ignore it, I cannot help but feel her emotions. There are so many, and they are so scattered that I can barely make sense of them.

I try to pay no attention to my rising curiosity, but I really want to know why she keeps looking at me, studying me like she's imagining how I would look in a t-rex costume (I'd look unbearably handsome and roguish, in case you were curious). Her emotions are too confusing to interpret, and I can't figure out the meaning behind the looks she keeps giving me.

Finally, a small ding from the device on our table breaks the silence. She stands up and walks over to the counter, where she grabs two plates. On each is a roll of some sort of thin dough, and it's filled with what looks like chocolate and some fluffy white stuff. Red heart-shaped fruits are elegantly displayed in a swirl of chocolate next to it.

"It's not exactly good for you," Sophie says, "but I think we could use some comfort food."

I awkwardly pick up the roll, trying and failing to avoid letting any of the stuff inside fall out, and take a bite.

"Delicious," I say.

Sophie smiles at me, a real smile this time. "You dropped like half of the whipped cream."

I lick it off my fingers. "So?"

She kicks me under the table, but she's holding back laughter. "Be polite, Keefe. You look like you got hit in the face by a nutella monster."

I make a face at her, and she giggles a little. After a few seconds of devouring the food in silence, I tap my forehead twice. She nods and I can feel her enter my mind.

Hey, she thinks.

Hi. So, I was thinking, how should we act? I ask.

When we go to the roof?

Yeah.

Well, Sophie transmits, We need to cooperate or they'll. . . yeah. But we can't be too nice.

Silence.

Then, Sophie says, What do you think they're going to test?

I think they're going to experiment with how far your abilities can stretch. It seems like they've got a goal in mind and want to see if you can get there.

But what is their goal? What could I possibly do?

I sigh and lean back in my chair. I don't know.

It's only partially a lie. Since last night, I've thought about it, too. The telepathy, combined with inflicting and teleportation. I'm slightly curious as well. Could she teleport somewhere that's not on this planet? Maybe into space? Telepathy— how far does it stretch? How strong is her brain? And with inflicting, how many people could she influence at one time? Does the enhancing make all of her abilities stronger as well?

She's examining me again. Do I still have nutella all over my face or something?

Why are you staring at me? I finally ask.

Sophie blinks, startled. I can feel her emotions turn to embarrassment, and her cheeks flush bright red. Hmm. Looks like I caught her off-guard. I wonder why.

"You have nutella on your face," she says.

I can feel, through her emotions and our still-connected thoughts, which she seems to have forgotten about, that her answer is a lie. But why?

"Sophie," I say. "You've been looking at me all morning. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

I summon a cocky grin to let her know that I'm just teasing. She rolls her eyes, but I can feel her relief. Why was she looking at me?

"It's almost 7:30. We should finish up eating," Sophie points out.

I nod and stuff a few strawberries in my mouth, still a bit confused.

Why was she looking at me? What is she thinking?

I watch her lick whipped cream off her finger.

Could she possibly. . . have feelings for me? No, that's impossible.

It doesn't matter, anyway.

Not now.

Not while we're trapped in here, while we're imprisoned.

Not while these walls surrounding us form nothing but a glittering cage.

And as far as I'm concerned, my only goal is getting Sophie out of here.

She smiles at me, unaware of what's going on in my head right now. I wish I could tell her.

But I remain silent.