Chapter 39

Nessa could smell cheap floral fragrances from some of the female humans. She wanted to cough, but she dared not. From her hiding spot, she listened.

“Where’d it go?” Zane asked.

“It?” A boy--who was less mature than the other guards and had red bumps all over his face--questioned.

“The alien, Jonathan,” Zane snapped.

Several guards flicked on beams of white light, and they moved them around. Nessa inched into the darkness. She tried to see through gaps of guards.

“It couldn’t have gone far,” a woman with almond eyes and a thin face chimed in. “We took its ship to Level Eight.”

Nessa searched her memory. When did they take my ship?

It had never occurred to her; she’d been so focused on watching Jamison and his family, spending time with Jamison, on her own captivity. She scanned the ceiling. Balconies stacked on each other and ascended to a transparent rotunda. Hallways wrapped around each level. Each hallway had an attached balcony.