Page 21 of Cinder's Adventure: Get Me To the Wedding!

The crowd fell into a hush as two of the workers took crowbars to the chest’s lid, grunting and straining. Finally, with a last push, the lid was pried open.

Light—blinding as the sun—radiated from the box.

Followed by an explosion.

Cinder was thrown backward. The force knocked the wind from her. Her head rang like a bell.

The world around her went black.

She didn’t know how long she lay there.

When she opened her eyes—minutes? Hours later?—her head was pounding. Her thoughts were disjointed. Her body felt heavy and sore. But her lungs were working, even if they burned at each shaky inhale, and her system diagnostics were quick to inform her that her body was functioning properly, more or less. Elevated heart rate, unusual power surges.

She blinked up into a clear blue sky. Smoke hung hazy in the air, and bits of dust and dirt were still floating down over the city.

And then there were the two unfamiliar faces peering down at her. A girl with tan skin, cropped black hair, and vibrant blue eyes, and a dark-skinned boy wearing thick-rimmed glasses.

“You all right?” asked the boy, holding his hand toward her. “Did you hit your head?’

“Where am I?” she asked, her words slurring. She took his hand and allowed him to pull her up to sitting. “What happened?”

“We’re not sure,” said the girl. “We’re trying to figure that out. But first, gotta take care of the bystanders.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, like this was a rule she found tedious. “Always the priority.”

The boy crouched down, putting himself close to Cinder’s eye level. “I’m worried your add-ons might have reacted more severely to the explosion.”

“Add-ons?” she said. Then—seeing her hand, heavy with metal, she gasped. She lifted the hand. Flexed the fingers. Was shocked at how it obeyed her every command.

“I’m Insomnia, and this is Sketch,” said the girl. “What’s your name? Would you like us to call someone?”

“I…”

She hesitated.

Her name.

What was her name?

Her family?

Her friends?

Wasthere someone they should call?

Someone who cared about her?

Someoneshecared about?

“I—I don’t know,” she stammered. “I don’t remember.”

The boy and girl exchanged looks.

“Nothing to worry about,” said the boy.Sketch. What strange names. Did she have an odd name like that, too? “We’ll take you down to headquarters, give you some time to recover. Maybe your amnesia will fade with time. And if not—”

Insomnia flashed a sympathetic smile. “Well, we can always use another cyborg on the team.”

Cyborg.

It was as good a name as any, she supposed. For now.

---