I stopped and turned, and wondered if I’d ever get used to the sight of Zach in our halls, wearing his official Gallagher Academy workout gear—the clean white T-shirt with the official school crest. It was maybe the best cover legend I’d ever seen: Zachary Goode, preppy schoolboy. But I couldn’t touch him. It was like there was still a fire between us. I wondered if we would ever leave the tombs.
“Cammie,” he said, urgency rising in his voice, “are you—”
“I’m fine,” I said, darting into a sitting room that nobody ever used. “Hold this.” I picked up the fireplace poker and moved it out of the way.
“Gallagher Girl…” He sounded skeptical, but that didn’t stop me from pressing against the Gallagher Academy crest that was engraved into the mantel. Zach stood in wonder as, one by one, the stones began to roll away.
“I just want to check on something.” I ducked down and stepped over the ashes of a fire that had long since gone out, careful not to leave any tracks.
“Does this something have anything to do with the two limos that just pulled up outside?” Zach asked, and followed. But I didn’t answer.
“I thought the passageways were all blocked off,” he said from behind me.
“The ones they know about are closed up. And besides, this one doesn’t go outside. It’s not a perimeter threat.”
The passageway was dim and tight. Old wooden beams cut through the space, covered with dust. There were spiderwebs and a mouse or two, and Zach had to crouch low and turn his broad shoulders at odd angles to follow, but he did. And he didn’t say another word.
“Originally, a lot of these were servants’ hallways.” I leaned down and slipped under a beam. “For a while, during the Civil War, the mansion was a stop on the Underground Railroad. It wasn’t until Gilly took the building over and turned it into a school that she really started expanding everything, though. She had to keep up appearances, you know. It was just as important then that the truth about us stay a secret.”
I went on, slipping forward as quiet as a ghost, toward the narrow passage that looked through a small opening, right into my mother’s office.
Mom sat stoically behind her desk. Abby was at her right side, standing almost at attention. I felt Zach catch my arm. “You don’t want to be here, Gallagher Girl.”
“It’s the trustees, Zach. The trustees never come unless something big is going on.”
“If it were something that pertained to you, then you’d be in the room and not spying on it.”
“Why are you up, Zach?” I asked, and I could tell the question had knocked him off his game.
He actually stumbled a little before saying, “At Blackthorne, we ran drills every day at dawn. Old habits die—”
“How did you find me?” I went on, too exhausted to listen to any more lies. “Mom told you to keep an eye out for me this morning, didn’t she?”
“Cammie,” Zach started.
“She didn’t want to risk my seeing…this.” I turned back to the small opening and studied the two trustees who sat at the center of the room. Professor Buckingham stood by the windows, and everyone seemed focused on the speakerphone that sat on the edge of my mother’s desk.
“Rachel, I understand your concerns,” a male voice boomed from the box.
“With all due respect, sir,” Abby said, “I don’t think you do.”
“Abigail,” the older of the trustees warned.
“We told you Cammie went to the cabin when she left here last summer,” Abby said. “And now it looks like the Circle has probably had the place under surveillance since the day she got back.”
“Agent Cameron, are you implying…”
“That the CIA has a leak, sir?” Abby guessed. “Yes, I am.” She took a deep breath, and I got the impression that this was well-worn territory in a long conversation. “Where the Circle is concerned, the CIA always has leaks.”
“That wouldn’t be a concern if you’d just keep the girl inside the school,” said another male and unfamiliar voice. I wished the Baxters were there. I got the impression that Mom and Abby needed all the allies they could muster.
“Truthfully,” the younger trustee started, “given recent events, I’m far less concerned about whether or not it’s safe for her to leave than whether or not it is safe for her to stay.”
“Cammie is not dangerous,” Mom said.
“Really, Rachel.” The older trustee cocked an eyebrow. “I think there’s a body in the morgue at Langley that says otherwise.”
“That was self-defense,” Buckingham snapped from her place near the window.