THINGS THAT TOTALLY FREAKED ME OUT IN THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED:
(A list by Cameron Morgan)
My mom and Mr. Solomon. I had no idea where they were or what they were doing. When—or if—they’d return. You may think spies would be used to that feeling, but spy kids? We never do get over it.
Liz. It was the only time I’d ever seen her depressed about getting a test answer right.
There was currently a non-zero chance that the Circle of Cavan wanted me dead. Again.
Having people want me dead was something I was actually starting to get used to.
“Hello, girls. Welcome back,” Madame Dabney said as we walked into Culture and Assimilation class the next morning. She walked down the row of tables that served as desks. There were lace tablecloths and silver candles. It always felt like we were going to tea, and in that room we sat straighter than anyplace else on earth. In that room, we were ladies.
She handed us each a stack of papers.
“What you have here is our best idea of what your graduation and placement examinations will contain. The written test, of course. Your practical exams…well, they could be anything. And make no mistake, they could come at any time.”
I thought about all I’d seen and done. My life had been a test for years.
“On the twenty-eighth we will be taking senior portraits.”
Madame Dabney handed the packets to the first girl in each row and we took turns taking one and handing the rest to the girl behind us.
“Those of you wishing to schedule summer internships must return these applications to my office by the fifteenth of next month,” Madame Dabney said, sending along another stack of forms.
“Letters of reference for placement in any of the US agencies are required no later than April first. Please do not wait until the last minute to request these, ladies,” Dabney warned. “That, more than anything, can ensure you receive a bad one.”
Finally Madame Dabney walked back to her desk. “And, of course,” she said, “the annual career fair is tonight.”
“Tonight?” I blurted, totally not realizing I was speaking aloud.
“Yes, Cameron. Due to the…events…of last fall we decided to host the career fair in the spring semester this year.” She passed another piece of paper down the long rows. “Here are the agencies and programs that will be attending. And do remember, ladies, this is not just their opportunity to get to know you. It is your chance to get to know them.” She smiled. “You’re seniors. Take this opportunity very, very seriously. Your futures will be here soon.”
I looked down at the piles of paper that lay on the lace cloth before me. I’d been running for days. I’d been hiding for years. But Madame Dabney was right. My future was on my tail, and there was no way I could lose it.
Chapter Twenty
That night, the Grand Hall didn’t look like the Grand Hall. All the tables were gone, pushed to the sides or moved to another room. Booths lined the walls. I walked up and down the aisles. Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives had set up a mock firing range where the teachers usually sat. There were MI6 and Interpol. The FBI and CIA.
“Hi,” one clean-cut man said, pushing a brochure in my direction. “Have you considered a career with Homeland Security? We are the agency of the future.”
“The US State Department,” a woman said as I passed. “The world is our office.”
There were seventh graders, loading up on Tootsie Rolls and free erasers from the US Marshals Service (they make people disappear). To tell you the truth, I’d seen it all before. I’d heard all the pitches, read all the material. The years changed; the booths grew. But I didn’t have any better idea of what my future was going to look like.
“Hello,” a man in an FBI polo shirt said, “do you know where you’re going to be a year from now?”
I looked him in the eye. “That is an excellent question.”
Truthfully, I would have been happy just knowing where my mother and Mr. Solomon were right then.
“Official FBI Post-it pad for your thoughts.” I turned to see Bex behind me, holding out a bag full of loot. Part of me wanted to smile, but I couldn’t. I just looked around the big room I knew so well and wondered why everything felt so utterly unfamiliar.
“I don’t like this,” I said.
Bex, being excellent at both spying and best friending, didn’t ask me what I meant. She just slid her arm through mine and told me, “They’re out there, Cam. And they’re okay. And they’ll be back whenever it is best for them to come back and not a minute before.”
“I know,” I said, and then it was like the crowd parted. I could see Liz staring up at a huge display from the National Security Agency, offering prizes to anyone who could crack the codes they had on their walls.