My first thought was: Where am I?, but the soft sheets were familiar beneath my hands. My legs were tangled in the covers, keeping me there even as my mind ran down cobblestone streets. I lay back down on the bed and forced myself to breathe. To think. It was just a dream. It was only a…
There was a sound then, soft and light, and I spun to see a figure searching my closet in the dark. Not any of my roommates. Not Zach.
Abby.
I blinked twice just to make sure my messed-up mind wasn’t seeing things, but there was no mistaking the woman who turned to me, an empty duffel bag in her hands. “Get packed,” she whispered, and tossed the bag onto my bed. “Get dressed.” She started for the door. “We leave in twenty minutes.”
Okay, I know I was half asleep and brain damaged and all, but that seriously didn’t sound like the suggestion of someone who was convinced that I would never be allowed to leave my school again.
I threw off the covers and followed her into the hall.
“Abby—” I started.
“Come on, Squirt. Clock’s ticking. Spies are fast packers. Consider it your CoveOps lesson for the day.” She gestured to the door. “Now, go. And be quiet. We don’t want to wake—”
“Us?” Bex’s voice sounded even more mischievous than usual when she appeared in the doorway and crossed her arms, then turned to the girl behind her. “What do you think, Macey? I think she’s talking about us.”
But Abby didn’t answer. She just glared at me. “I said pack and dress quietly.”
“It’s not Cam’s fault,” Bex told her. “We rigged her bed so that if she gets up, I get an electric shock.”
“Liz designed it,” Macey said, and Bex shrugged.
“We told you we were taking precautions.”
Of course. Because at the Gallagher Academy, “precautions” usually equals “voluntary shock therapy.”
“So we’re leaving?” Macey asked, following Bex into the hallway. Despite the hour, there was a brightness in her blue eyes.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Abby snapped. “Cam, you now have ten minutes to get ready. Bex, you and Macey have ten seconds to go back to bed.”
“No,” Macey said, almost whining. For the first time in years, she actually sounded like the bored, spoiled heiress she was when she’d come to us.
“Yes,” Abby countered in an identical tone. Watching the two of them square off gave me an acute case of déjà vu, remembering when Abby had been Macey’s Secret Service agent—when Abby had taken a bullet meant for Macey.
Abby had taken a bullet…
“Go to bed, guys.” My voice was flat and even.
“But—”
“But no one else is getting hurt,” I said, cutting Bex off.
“Abby?” Mom appeared at the end of the hallway. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see us up. And arguing.
“They hot-wired Cam’s bed,” Abby said with a shrug.
“Of course they did,” my mother said.
“You’ve got to take us with you,” Macey said, but it wasn’t a plea. It was more a statement of fact.
“And why is that?” Mom asked.
“We know Cammie,” Macey said. “You need us to help you figure out where she went and what she did.”
“Yeah,” Bex agreed. “And you’re not going through official channels on this, are you?”
Mom and Abby shared a glance, which was answer enough for Bex.