Chapter Eighteen
No one told Liz she was crazy. As far as I could tell, no one even thought it. Mainly because A) Liz’s particular brand of crazy doesn’t include being stupid. And B) Take it from the girl who spent most of the past semester being totally brainwashed—in our world, crazy never means impossible. And, besides, I didn’t know what the Circle had done, but I did know they were capable of anything.
So we didn’t panic as we ran downstairs. No one cried or yelled or sounded any alarms as we rushed through the dark and sleeping hallways. And yet there was a hurried, frantic pace to our steps—like this secret was on our heels and we had to outrun it.
My mother’s office light was on and the door was closed.
“Mom,” I yelled, banging on the door probably louder than I needed to. “Mom, it’s me. I need to talk to you. It’s an—”
But then the door opened, cutting me off.
“Ms. Sutton,” Professor Buckingham said when she caught sight of Liz. “What is wrong with you?” She eyed all four of us with our untucked shirts and sloppy ponytails. We didn’t look like trained covert operatives, I was sure. But I didn’t care.
“We’re looking for the headmistress,” Macey said as if that were explanation enough. Professor Buckingham looked back as if it wasn’t.
“She’s not here, girls.”
“She was just here,” I countered.
Then I heard the voice. “Gallagher Girl?”
I turned and saw Zach in the corner of the office. His eyes were narrow and cautious.
Buckingham glanced in his direction, then explained, “I was just giving Zachary a message, and then I was going to come find you.”
“We need to see the headmistress,” Liz blurted, but Buckingham didn’t waver.
“That was the message, I’m afraid,” our teacher said. “Cameron, your mother and Mr. Solomon have been called away—”
“Called away?” Macey asked. “Where? When?”
“Just moments ago,” Buckingham said, and I thought about the way my mom had hugged me in the foyer, the finality of her words, and, at last, I heard them for what they were. They weren’t a good night. They were a good-bye.
“Something urgent has come up and the two of them had to…leave,” Buckingham finished, choosing her words carefully.
“But—” Liz started, and Buckingham cut her off.
“But nothing. Listen to me very carefully, girls. They had to go. They will be gone indefinitely, and they will be unreachable. Do not try to follow them,” Buckingham warned. “Do not try to track them down. If you want them to be safe then you will follow these instructions. Do you understand?”
I did understand, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I looked at Liz and thought about what our oldest faculty member was really telling us: that the people we trusted most were gone. And there was no way to know when—or if—they would ever return.
Buckingham started through the Hall of History.
“Your mother is fine, Cameron. She will be back soon.” She looked certain. She sounded sure. But she held my gaze just a moment too long. Her hands shook, and in that moment, Patricia Buckingham didn’t look like a seasoned operative. She looked like an old woman, and it was harder than it should have been to watch her walk away.
“You need a coat,” Zach told me an hour later. Then he took off his own jacket and slipped it around my shoulders. Because even major security threats of global proportions couldn’t stop my boyfriend from being pretty much the sexiest guy alive.
We were standing in the space I’d first found a year before. Once upon a time it had been home to the Gallagher Academy’s covert carrier pigeon program. Then Mr. Solomon had used it to decipher my father’s final words to me. And now it was my favorite place to hide. With a small balcony and a secluded cave-like room, I felt free there, looking out over the school grounds and the lights of distant towns.
“I don’t get it.” Liz shook and paced. “Why would they leave? They can’t just leave!”
“Cam,” Bex said, inching closer. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“I’m not.” I laughed at my own foolishness. “It was Edwards,” I said. “When he brought me home, he asked about Mr. Solomon—like he knew he was still alive and hiding out here…like Edwards and his task force were going to come after Mr. Solomon and anyone who might be helping him.”
I felt like an idiot that I hadn’t seen what Mom was saying in that moment. I speak fourteen different languages. I should know “good-bye” when I hear it.
“So now they’re just gone?” Macey asked.