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Philip Lawrence publicly announced that he was going to marry Lyla Blake. Lyla stepped on my hand in her heels, grinding down hard. She said, "Hannah, you wouldn't last three days without Philip." A sharp spike of pain tore through me. I pulled my coat tighter around myself and felt something cold in my pocket. The encrypted communicator. She bent down, leaning close to my ear. "You're nothing but a dog he keeps—" I lifted my head and smiled. "Lyla, do you know how a cold-resistance antibody is extracted?" Her smile froze on her lips. I pressed the send button on the communicator. Three seconds later, every light in the base went dark.