I meant it in that moment. I really did. I thought we would sleep for a few hours and wake up to a new day filled with new possibilities. I thought the morning would bring change. But I should have known that it doesn’t take that long for change to happen—it takes a second. A moment. In a single breath, reality as you know it can simply fall away.
When I heard a sound on the porch I thought it was the wind rattling the shutters. It felt like the world and its troubles were blowing straight to our door, so I looked at my friends in turn and said, “Okay, everybody, get some sleep, and tomorrow we’ll figure out how to stop the Circle.”
“Oh.” A laugh filled the room. “Maybe I can help with that.”
I spun to look at the woman who stood silhouetted in the door. Wind gusted around her, and bits of hair blew across her face, framing her dark eyes as she looked at Zach and said, “Hello, sweetheart. Sorry to disturb you, but I believe you have a walk-in.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Maybe you’ve never heard the term “walk-in.” If you’re reading this, though, you probably have. You probably know that it’s the term spy agencies use for when rival operatives come in out of the cold. It’s a phrase that brings to mind hope and fear in equal measures. This could be big, you think. This could be nothing, you know. But whatever the case, it is never, ever something that you ignore or disregard.
And that’s why we all sat staring at the door, every one of us gaping at the woman who stood there.
In a flash, Zach was moving toward her, but Catherine held her hands up in surrender.
“I come in peace,” Catherine said.
None of us believed her.
Zach was almost to his mother, who reached out as if to hug him or touch his face.
“I missed you, darling,” Catherine told him. “You’ve grown into such a handsome young—”
But his mother didn’t finish because, just then, I rushed past Zach, toward the woman who had captured me—kidnapped me. I didn’t think as I pulled back my fist and punched with all my might. I felt pain and satisfaction in equal measure as I watched Catherine crumble, unconscious, to the ground.
REASONS I TOTALLY, COMPLETELY, ABSOLUTELY WAS NOT GOING TO SLEEP THAT NIGHT (NO MATTER HOW MUCH EVERYBODY TOLD ME I HAD TO):
(A list by Cameron Morgan)
Despite popular belief, hitting someone with a closed fist actually hurts the hitter almost as much as the hittee.
One of the little bones in my hand was technically broken.
It’s really hard to sleep when your ice pack keeps leaking all over your pillow.
The only thing worse than getting injured is Liz’s becoming your self-appointed nurse and, consequently, hurting you many, many more times while changing your bandages.
The look in Zach’s eyes when he saw his mother.
The look in Zach’s mother’s eyes when she saw me.
Knowing that an assault on a walk-in was in violation of at least three rules of the Geneva convention.
Remembering that I totally and completely didn’t care.
“What is she doing here?” I heard Liz’s voice as soon as the sun came up. Creeping toward the stairs, I saw her below, pacing like a tiny blond blur. The rain must have stopped and the chimney must have cleared, because the air was warm and dry—almost cozy—as I walked down the stairs.
“What does she want? Presumably not to kill us…because we’re not dead.” Liz was rattling off the facts at ninety miles per hour. “Let’s say we’re looking at a double-agent situation. She’s come to infiltrate us and send our plans back to her bosses.”
“She doesn’t have bosses,” Bex said, but Liz rattled on.
“Maybe she really is a walk-in. Maybe she has information for us and we can—”
“We can’t listen to her, Liz,” Bex said.
“But—” Liz started, until Zach cut her off.
“She’s just as dangerous in here as she is out there. You got that?” he asked. He looked at Bex and Liz in turn. “Do you understand?”
Macey took a deep breath and crossed her arms. “Well, I vote we bind her hands and feet and kick her out of a fast moving vehicle in front of the gates of Langley.”
“We can’t do that,” I said.
“Why not?” Zach asked, like he was seriously considering the idea.
“Because the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” I started for the small room where we’d tied Catherine up the night before, but Zach lunged in front of me, blocking my way.
“I can’t let you question her, Gallagher Girl,” he told me.
“Isn’t that why she’s here—to talk?” I asked.
Zach shook his head. “She’s here to lie.”
“She’ll talk to me.”
“No, Cam,” Zach said. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Maybe it’s our only idea,” I said back.
“Well…” I heard a tiny voice behind me and turned to see Liz standing there, a truly guilty look on her face. “Maybe not our only idea…”
Catherine sat in her chair, hands and feet bound, yet she looked like she was waiting on a train, like she’d wait forever if she had to.
“Hello, Catherine,” I said, easing closer. She was across the room, but like a snake, I could feel her coiled, constantly ready to strike.
“You don’t have to do this, Cammie,” Zach said.
“Hello, darling,” Catherine told him, but it was as if she’d never spoken at all.
“Gallagher Girl,” he started again, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of his mother.
“Liz,” I said, and then my smallest roommate walked forward. She didn’t tremble or shake, but I knew she must have been terrified as she pulled up the sleeve of Catherine’s shirt and injected a clear liquid into the woman’s arm.
“Truth serum, girls?” Catherine said. She sounded so disappointed. “Isn’t that a tad cliché?”
“It’s stronger,” Liz said, then stepped quickly back. Zach moved between Liz and his mother until Liz was safely out of range of the woman tied to the chair.
“Really?” Catherine asked as Liz’s concoction entered her bloodstream. It was like she was growing drunk and sleepy. Her eyelids were heavy, and when she told Zach, “You’ve gotten so tall,” her words were slurred.