“Yes, it was.” The older woman turned to her. “This time. But can anyone swear that there won’t be a next time?”
No one said a thing. I guess none of them was certain of the answer. It took me a moment to realize: neither was I.
“If it’s true that the Circle no longer needs—or wants—her alive, then the girl faces a serious threat, that’s certain,” the younger trustee said. “But what we would like to know is whether or not she is a threat.”
I felt myself tremble. My hands balled into fists. For a second I thought I was seeing things, my vision going as black as my memories as the older trustee turned to my mother and asked, “Is the girl stable, Rachel?”
“The girl’s name is Cammie,” Aunt Abby said.
“Is she capable of betraying the confidence and security of this school?” the trustee went on. “Rachel, you had to know that your daughter wasn’t…herself.”
My mother didn’t turn away from the accusation. She held her head high. “Oh, I know that very well.”
How many times had my mother warned me not to pick at my memories, not to go digging around in the dark? I realized then that Mom and Abby weren’t just afraid of what I might have lived through. They were terrified of what I might have done.
“When the Circle had her…” Abby started, but one of the trustees cut her off.
“If the Circle had her.”
“What are you saying?” Mom countered.
“Maybe they never had her at all. Maybe they sent her back for some reason,” the trustee said, running through the options.
“Cammie is no double agent. She wasn’t turned,” Abby snapped, but the trustee talked on.
“The truth is, we don’t know anything. Your daughter ran away, Rachel,” the younger trustee said. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we’re very interested to know exactly who came back.”
Chapter Seventeen
I didn’t want to watch any more. I couldn’t bear to listen. So I pulled away and pushed farther into the tunnels, deeper and deeper into the belly of the school. Zach was taller and stronger, but I had a body that was made to disappear, and I could hear him chasing after me, struggling to keep up.
Eventually, the tunnel widened. Pale, predawn light sliced through the room from a dusty, narrow window, and I stood, panting, the trustees’ words echoing in my head.
“Don’t do that.” Zach grabbed my hand and spun me toward him. “Don’t ever run away again.”
“I killed someone,” I said.
“You saved Bex,” he countered.
“They think I’m dangerous. They think—”
“They don’t know you!”
My hair was almost its normal color. My uniform didn’t swallow me quite like it had a week before. Slowly, my body was starting to feel more like my own. But I wasn’t the girl I’d been when I left, and I knew it. I shouldn’t have been surprised that the best spies in the world would know it too.
“They don’t know you,” Zach said again. He grabbed my hands. “I know you.”
“They’re strangers,” I told him.
“Yeah,” he agreed, as if that should make me feel better.
“Impartial, informed, unbiased strangers.” I pulled away and looked up into his eyes. “And they think something is wrong.”
I wanted him to argue, to say that everything was going to be fine. It was a lie I was ready and willing to believe. But the words didn’t come. Instead, Zach ran a hand through his hair and asked, “Why did you kill him, Cammie?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t even remember doing it. I was—”
“Why didn’t you let me?”