Nothing can explain to Aydan Fulbert how she survived the savage attack in the woods. Why her left eye, instead of being blinded by the injuries she'd sustained, had simply turned a shocking shade of silver. And nothing can explain the fact that she can hear the Stranger speaking in her mind - or that she can answer him back without using her mouth. Nothing can explain it - unless he's telling the truth. Nothing can explain the things the Stranger knows about her - things that she, until just a few hours ago, hadn't known herself: that she'd healed faster from her injuries than was humanly possible. That the cruel family she'd been raised by isn't biologically hers. That her stepfather is now hell-bent on bringing her to his own form of justice for a crime she didn't commit. Nothing can explain it - unless he's telling the truth. Nothing can explain why she so easily agreed to go with the Stranger. Why she didn't find the notion of another world ludicrous and impossible. Why she didn't cut and run the minute he explained where he wanted to take her. Nothing can explain it - unless she believes he's telling the truth. Aydan knows she's being intentionally naive. She knows her decision to follow the Stranger is at best, reckless. At worst, deadly. ...unless he's telling the truth.