chair. “Stars, girl.”
“I warned you.”
“You did.” He stares at the screen for a few moments. “Looks like we have a ton of work. What do you want to do first?”
Outwardly, I don’t react to the fact he asked me my opinion. Yes, we’re partners, but he’s always been in charge of picking what we’re going to do in the Q-net. “Check our security measures.”
“All right. Let’s get to it.”
I insert my tangs. It doesn’t take us long to see Jarren’s been snooping around. The scary part is he didn’t set off a single one of our alarms.
Has he altered any of our programs? Beau asks.
Not for the cameras in the base, nor the ones in the satellite. I check the feeds for security. He’s hit these pretty hard. Oh no.
He’s watching live feed in security now?
Yes. He’s bypassed it.
But you don’t show up in those feeds. Or has he found that special Q-net trick, too?
Trick or no, the Q-net ensures I’m not visible in the security camera feeds. No. That’s still intact.
That’s good. If he doesn’t see you, then he’ll question whether or not you’re alive. Might slow him down.
Nice of you to try to make me feel better, but it’s too late for that, Beau. He called me Lyra and Ara. My worming style is too obvious. I focus on our next task. Are you ready to infiltrate enemy territory? I ask.
How do you want to do this?
Obviously without tipping Jarren off. On tiptoes, silent as the night, unseen, and—
No more clichés please. I get it. So how’s your head? You know he’s going to be hiding behind some serious protection.
Ah. Going snail speed is extra hard and I made a promise. We should probably take a break. Do you want to work on this after dinner?
Is that enough time off?
Should be.
Ara, if we tip Jarren off that we know where he is, he’s coming straight for us. And we’re not ready for him yet.
It’s enough time.
Dinner is a strange affair. Everyone is sneaking glances at me. Well, they’re trying to be sneaky, but I notice. I don’t say anything, though. ’Cause that would just give them all permission to ask me how I’m feeling about Jarren. And truthfully, I’d rather not have that discussion. One of the ways to be good at denial is to not examine your emotions too deeply, but to rather focus on other things. Like Niall’s T-shirt and how it clings to his shoulders and chest.
He catches me looking at him and I’m rewarded with one of his I-know-what-you’re-thinking smiles. I raise my eyebrows in a you’ve-no-idea-just-what-I’d-like-to-do manner. His eyes narrow in a I’d-like-to-see-you-try squint.
Too bad Radcliff interrupts our silent communication by asking for an update on the security measures. I fill them in on what Beau and I found.
“Any info on Jarren’s hideout?” Radcliff asks.
“We’re going back in tonight. We needed a break,” I say, meeting Niall’s gaze.
Universal approval. Wow, never thought that would happen.
“Don’t stay up too late,” Mom says.
I wonder if it’s an automatic Mom response. Do the words just pop out of her mouth?
The rest of the dinner limps along with awkward small talk. Again, no one is brave enough to speculate what will happen if Jarren attacks. Although I suspect it’s one of the reasons my mother wished to have a talk with me.
After dinner is cleaned up, my dad leaves to recruit volunteers to help with the base’s defenses. Niall washes dishes while Mom and I go to my room to have our chat.
We sit on the edge of the bed, facing each other. If we wore the same clothes, I could almost imagine I’m staring into a mirror that reflects my future. Her silky black hair never stays confined in a braid, just like mine.
“I’m being careful,” I say.
“You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”
“I figured that would cover all the bases.”
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I want you to stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Everything.”
Oh no. She’s in panic mode. I know it doesn’t seem like she is, since she waited until now to freak out, but, think about it, I learned the fine art of denial from someone. “Mom—”
“Don’t Mom me. Jarren killed you and the first thing he’s going to do is come after you. No. I won’t let it happen. You’re staying here.” She points a finger at the floor.
“Are you grounding me?”
“Yes. You’re not eighteen A-years. I’m still your legal guardian and what I say goes. You can only