With Yvonne in control, Michael perfected, and Drew and her friends having been captured by the creators, everything seems hopeless. But when a group of flawed androids rescue them, Drew is suddenly thrown into the middle of saving the world again.
Drew buries herself in the elaborate planning and scheming, as well as vigorously trying to bring Michael's memory back. But as Drew loses sight of what she cares about and her world seems like it's being ripped in two, choices are needing to be made and Drew discovers many of the people she thought she knew weren't as they appeared to be.
Betrayal, sorrow, and passion drive Drew to the limit and she's forced to choose, once again, between giving in to her desires and fears, or doing what she knows is the only right thing.
BUY THE BOOK
He watched her from the doorway that led into the long, white corridor. She sat in her cell studying her hands that lay in her lap, her fingers laced together. A shadow fell across her cell leaving her in semidarkness. Her long auburn hair fell across her face, as she bent her head, not even bothering to swipe it away.
Michael’s brow furrowed. She was pretty. No, he shook his head. She was beautiful. But what did that mean? The word was used for so many things, and although Michael understood the definition perfectly, knew exactly what it meant ... he felt nothing. It should have some significance, shouldn’t it? She should have some significance, shouldn’t she? She had called him by his name. She had said he knew her.
But he didn’t.
She had said he knew both of them, her and that other girl who was in the cell a few doors down from hers. But he had no idea who she was. He tried to remember. Tried to figure out if she was right. But whenever he tried, he came up with nothing. She was probably just confused like the creators said she was. That had to be it. The creators were always right.
He went back to watching the girl in her cell. She sat there, staring down at her hands, and although it seemed like such a boring and irrelevant thing to do, Michael couldn’t seem to wrench his gaze away. Something about her held him there, something grabbed him and wouldn’t let go. Something inside of him screamed at him that he knew this girl... but he didn’t. That was the truth. He didn’t know her. So why was he watching her?
Suddenly the girl looked up, startling him. Her eyes met his, searching his face for something. Her face was even prettier than the rest of her. She had delicate features, and her eyes were blue, the color of the sky. They looked at him with some strange expression. Hope?
“Michael,” she said quietly.
At the sound of his name, Michael backed away, faster than he had intended, and in a second, he was out the door. He stood out there, staring at the wall. The color of her eyes, the sound of her voice, the way she had looked at him had brought on a strange feeling. A feeling in his heart that something had once been there. It ached with hollowness. Something inside of him screamed for him to remember.
But remember what?