Now available in paperback, Evolution is the the thrilling conclusion to the Dark Matter Trilogy: a showdown between Shay and her father brings this sci-fi trilogy to a satisfying close. Shay has left Kai once again by following Alex to his Multiverse compound. Her goal is to find the real Callie, but Shay discovers that the younger girl has no memory of her past. Their best hope is to leave the community. While Shay pretends to be a devoted follower, Alex makes his own plans to use Shay to spread the epidemic he caused. The few survivors will be only those who evolve special abilities and are worthy of building a new society with Alex as leader. The opportunistic Freja further poisons Kai's memories of his girlfriend. Angry and hurt, Kai doubles down on his mission to reveal that his former stepfather is behind the epidemic, but he has little luck convincing the authorities--until it's almost too late to save Shay from a fate worse than death. Teri Terry is the award-winning author of several books, including the Slated trilogy, and has been published in the US, Germany, Australia, Canada, and France. She lives in England. Chapter 1: Lara My feet take me to the very edge of the world. There is nothing beyond this place if I look at it straight on—the woods, the path, and even the sky above them disappear, lost in a white mist. If I turn my eyes far to the side, I can almost see ghostly images of trees and hills, spread out below. So maybe the world does go on, and a part of me somehow knows that it must. But it’s the edge of my world. If I think about it ahead of time, I can’t come here. I can’t decide to walk to this place; I can only do it as if by accident. If I’m upset enough and just walk , without planning to go anywhere in particular, I end up here. It’s a reflex, like my leg jerking up if my knee is hit just so with a hammer. Why was I upset? My thoughts veer in a direction they can’t take, and slip away. I lean forward, tilting into the world that vanishes beyond and below—arms outstretched in a sort of Titanic moment—and close my eyes. Can I lose my balance and tumble forward down this hill, out of this place? Maybe I could if I fell asleep. No one can control where I go in my dreams—not even me. I shiver, my thoughts dragged back to last night. To . . . to . . . well. Whatever it was has vanished from my thoughts. Calm washes through me once again. Unable to stop myself from trying, I lift my right foot and step forward. But when I open my eyes, it’s the same as always: I’ve  turned and gone the other way, away from the edge. I sigh and lean against a tree. Roots stretch out near my feet, twisted and exposed. If my foot caught against a root, just here, could I sprawl and fall forward then? But no, it’s too late: I’ve thought about it now. I can’t trick my feet into a trip that formed in my thoughts. Maybe next time. Then I hear the summons, deep in my mind— Lara, come. And it’s another reflex that has me instantly running, back the way I came, with direction and purpose— Obedience. The sort that is blind. Chapter 2: Shay The plane lurches again, and I grip the arms of my seat tight. Elena sits terrified in the row in front of me; Beatriz, next to her, isn’t bothered at all. Maybe when you’re eight years old like Beatriz, you’re not scared; you can’t be. But the usual assumption with that would be that you’re not scared because you don’t understand you could really be hurt, or what death even means. That doesn’t apply to her, right? Beatriz has seen her whole family—and many more—die from the epidemic. She saw survivors like us, too, die around her in the fires of the vigilante survivor hunters, Vigil. Beatriz knows what death is, what it looks like, how it feels to watch someone you care about die screaming. To be flooded with their last thoughts if you touch them after they’re gone. Maybe after all that, flying into a storm seems tame. Chamberlain has hitched a ride too, and is half on the seat next to me, half on my knees. The tip of his tail twitches almost imperceptibly, like he is annoyed but not deigning to let it ruffle his cool cat persona. His front claws are embedded in my jeans, holding on and scratching my leg underneath now and then when the plane pitches or drops—the feline version of the brace-for-your-life position? I stroke him as much to reassure myself as to reassure him, and I try to concentrate on here, now, on my fear and his warm weight and claws. But it isn’t anywhere near enough to take my focus away from the agony inside. Kai closed his mind. He turned his back to me and walked away. I feel as if I’m draining away, my essence leaving me, drop by painful drop. Hang on, everyone, we’ll be through this in a moment. Alex broadcasts the thought to all of our minds from his seat up front: he’s the one at the controls, flying this thing. Alex—Xander, I mean, as that’s how he is known by everyone here. My father. Not that he’s