"No. That's just what MI6 thinks, for some reason, but they're wrong. There's been some kind of mistake." I tried to push away, but Abby leaned closer.
"Joe's a double agent, Cam. He was recruited by the Circle a really long time ago."
"How could you say that?" I snapped back. "He's your friend."
"He was also friends with the man who did this!" she yelled, pointing to her injured shoulder. She looked so angry and betrayed, and when she spoke again her voice was more like a plea. "We have to believe it, Cammie. You of all people need to believe it."
"But . . . he was CIA . . ." It sounded childish, and yet I had to say it. I was, after all, still a child. "He was our teacher. He couldn't have been working for the Circle."
Mrs. Baxter was calm as she took the seat next to Abby. "Think about it, girls. You know having operatives deep inside the Agency would be a high priority for the Circle. And an operative at the Gallagher Academy - an operative with so much access to Cammie . . ."
"You're wrong," Bex said.
"It's an old and effective practice," Mrs. Baxter said softly. "Recruit operatives who are young, encourage them to spend their breaks training with the Circle, working with the Circle. And then send them back to school." She was so poised - so good and wise and beautiful that it was almost impossible to doubt her as she looked at us both and said,
"But make no mistake, girls. We know what Joe Solomon did over his summer vacation."
"What if he's changed?" Bex challenged. "People change. Maybe he's not working with them anymore."
"It's not the Boy Scouts," Abby answered. "It's not that easy to just walk away."
We sat in silence for a long time before I finally turned back to my Aunt Abby. "Why did you come here tonight?"
"I was worried about you, Squirt. I was - "
"Where's my mom?" I heard my voice rising, but I didn't try to stop it.
"She's fine, Squirt." Abby looked at me. "She couldn't come herself, so I came. She's fine."
"Why couldn't she come?" I blurted. "What's so important that -"
"All right, then." Mr. Baxter pushed up from the table, signaling that the Q&A portion of our night was officially over. "It's best you two get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. We'll have to get up early to get you back to school.
Tomorrow. School. Bex and I looked at each other. Wordlessly, we both stood and started for the door. Roseville felt a million miles away.
"Abby?" Bex stopped and turned in the doorway, waited for my aunt to look up. "How old . . . When he joined them . . . how old was he?"
Abby's smile was soft but sad. She swallowed hard before she said, "Sixteen."
Chapter Eight
How To Return To School
(A list by Cameron Morgan and Rebecca Baxter)
· Do laundry. This is far easier , by the way, when you're at your grandmother's house and not an MI6 safe house (because, while the latter might have far cooler defense mechanisms, the former has a way better laundry room).
· Pack. Which is where living in a series of safe house comes in handy, because you've never actually unpacked.
· Set alarms. Because even a Gallagher Girl's internal alarm clock has a tendency to get wonky when you're dealing with vast amounts of stress and jet lag.
· Dress in layers. Because planes are always cold. And also, it's far easier to change your appearance and lose a tail if you can also lose your sweater.
· Double-check that you have the essay you wrote for Culture and Assimilation, the codes you broke for Practical Encryption, and the research paper I did for Covert Operations.
· Take the CoveOps paper out of the bag. Stomp on it. Kick it. Throw it in the trash.
· Take it out of the trash and pack it again. Just in case.