perplexed because she smiles—a soft smile I haven’t seen her wear since I played the Chopin. Close now, my mother says, “For eighteen months, it was feasible, unlikely but feasible, for Bekami and CNF to track us abroad, but Bekami’s awareness of our move to Waterford could only be a result of either a very sophisticated intelligence network, or an infiltrator.”
“An informant,” I say, remembering the questions inside the Bubble.
“Yes. Someone on the inside. David tracked us after we left the embassy, hoping to get his own lead on Bekami, but he lost us between Turkmenistan and Egypt. However, a few days afterward, something unexpected happened.” She pauses. “David got your signal.”
My signal. By using his SOS protocol, my father managed to save my life even after he was gone. I bite down hard on my lip, but that doesn’t stop the tears from swelling.
“As a backup measure”—my mother swallows, maintaining her composure—“your father routed your satellite transmitter to David in Berlin.”
“David?” I ask, confused. “Why him?”
“He was close to your father for a very long time.”
“He interrogated me!”
“He protected you. David was trying to clear your name, Sophia, not incriminate you. He was our fail-safe should something ever happen to either of us.” She looks down, because something had happened.
After a pause, Aksel nods at my mother. “We had just landed in Amsterdam when Todd got a message. We walked right back inside and boarded a flight to Istanbul.”
Istanbul. I can pick up the pieces after that. My restless mother stands and resumes pacing the center aisle out of earshot.
“It was my mother,” I say quietly to Aksel, watching her. “The woman you met in Berlin who told you about your parents, wasn’t it?”
“It wasn’t your mother, Sophia.”
“It had to be,” I persist.
“It wasn’t,” he says firmly, looking down at me. “I told you it was a woman who didn’t tell me her name.”
The jet rumbles side to side as we pass through turbulence. A few airmen wake and glance around the cabin, but seconds later the cabin settles and they reclose their eyes.
My pulse drums beneath my burned skin. “Aksel, I wasn’t sure you’d ever want to see me again …” I keep my voice steady. I have to ask; I have to hear his answer even if it tears me open. “Your grandfather told you my parents shot down their plane, didn’t he?”
With my fingers wound loosely through his, the side of my body tucked against his chest, and his arm draped across my back, I can feel every muscle in his body go tense.
I have never wanted to be more wrong in my life.
“Yes,” he answers quietly.
“And do you believe him?”
“No, Sophia,” he says.
Hot tears form in the rims of my eyes. “But it could have been. I know what they’ve done.” I gesture around the old jet. “What this is, what happens to people.”
“Sophia, stop.” He clasps my fingers securely between his. “Your parents didn’t kill my parents. Whoever did—”
“But my mother convinced your dad to be her agent and so because of her—”
“My dad knew the risk. If he agreed to give information, he did it because he believed in it. He wasn’t coerced.”
I shake my head. “How can you be certain?”
A faint smile appears on his lips. “I can’t be, I guess. But I have to believe that there are good people out there, like my parents, who try to do the right thing.”
The plane jerks through a cloud, and I wait for the cabin to stop rocking before I make eye contact with Aksel.
“Aksel, I swear I didn’t know you were being recruited or—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“I didn’t either.” He shrugs. “Not really. I only knew I was asked to attend a secret pre–basic training camp by some Navy guy. While I was there, I was approached about entering a special, clandestine track at the Academy. I didn’t know it was …” Aksel motions around the plane. “This …”
For a moment, our eyes linger. He lowers his voice, shrugging reticently. “But maybe that’s the point? If candidates like me knew before we agreed, would anyone ever join?”
“So, you couldn’t tell me about the training camp?”
“Simple rules. If you tell anyone, you’re out.”
“How many of you are there?” I ask hesitantly.
“A few dozen, I suppose. They don’t tell us.”
My mother comes over and sits down again. She has obviously been listening, trying to give us privacy, despite the confined space.
“It’s been that way for years, Sophia. We compartmentalize. Counterterrorist