"Lena?" a voice said.

"Lena?" it said even more frantically.

Lena opened one eye groggily

Something warm vibrated on my stomach. Lena pet her cat, wondering how he'd gotten out of her bag again.

"Brandon, go away. Now." she demanded.

He looked at her like she had grown four new heads.

"Are you crazy? You just fainted, and you look sick!"

"Yes, I'm crazy, Brandon. Duh. I don't faint. And so what if I look sick? I'm the mole, remember? I'm the enemy. And you never pity the enemy." Lena said, attempting to get up, but failing. If she succeeded, she would have thrown up.

"Fine, you collapsed. You're still quite obviously sick. Your face was actually green when you tried to get up. And I don't know what you are, but I don't think you're the enemy."

"You want to help me?" Lena asked.

Brandon nodded.

"Then leave me alone."

Lena didn't like being this matter of fact, especially with Brandon. But she knew she couldn't work with someone who thought she might betray them at any given chance.

"Lena. You're being a pain."

"Then remove the thorn in your side, because I don't think I want to be a part of this anymore."

"I'll tell you. I'll tell you what happened."

This was a truly tempting offer. Lena was so curious.

"Fine. You can stay on one condition."

"And that condition is?"

"You have to wear a pink tutu whenever I want you to."

He retracted his head into his neck, looking like a disturbed pigeon.

"I'm kidding."

"Oh thank god. I hate conditions."

"I wasn't kidding about that part. You wanna know what the condition is?"

"Yes," he replied without missing a beat.

"You have to trust me."

"I have to what?"

"Trust me. Can you do that?"

He put his head in his hands.

"Lena... "

"Well?"