Mira’s mother sizes up bodies at the morgue like she’s rifling through
the sales rack: this one’s too big… this one’s too small… ah, here it
is. Just right. The perfect vessel for the one they’ll call Adam.
Since Adam’s survival is the key to drawing out the Conduit—a slippery
sort bent on evacuating souls from their human bodies—Mira must help him
pass for a typical teenage boy. That means showing him how to talk
right, walk right, chew with his mouth open... blend in. Ironic,
because blending in is has always been a challenge for Mira, especially
with hair the color of a Dorito. But at their small, secluded prep
school, blending in is a matter of life and death. Because the Conduit
is watching.
