Harrison’s is the paying job, and mine is the reason the program exists in the first place. And maybe whatever justification I have is just grief dressed up as logic, but I don’t care. I need somewhere to put it.
Felix purrs, which is either support or an early warning system for imminent doom.
My phone rings, and I lean forward to glance at the screen.
“Oh, look. Speaking of doom,” I joke to Felix before answering the call with a grin. “Hey, Malc.”
“Cason.”
I wish I could’ve asked him to call me Case a long time ago, but even now, I can’t. I only lived with my uncle for a couple months after my kidnapping, but we’re both the only family each other has on this side of the country. We take turns checking in on each other. I’m glad he didn’t take it personally when I quit working at the Institute. I just couldn’t stand the attention.
“Look, if this is about the time I accidentally crashed Bellrose’s internal server when I was seventeen, I maintain that was a learning experience.”
“You were twenty.”
“Time is a construct.”
He laughs. “How have you been?”
“Oh, you know. Trying not to get into too much trouble. It’s not going so well.”
“You know I’m always here if you need anything.”
“I know.”
There’s a beat of silence, then he says, “How’s your mission going?”
I blink. “My…what?”
“Your mission.”
I stare at the code, suddenly very aware of every line on the screen. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific. I have several. Some of them involve pizza.”
A pause.
“I know what you’ve been doing.”
The air in my apartment shifts. Even Felix stops purring.
I lean my chair back again, slowly, giving myself time to decide how to respond. “That’s deeply ominous. Should I go on the lam now or later?”
“You asked me a long time ago if I had any enemies. If someone was trying to use you to get to me.”
“I remember.”
“I’ve been watching since then.”
“Watchingwhat, exactly?”
“I have eyes everywhere, Cason.”
I wince. “Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, I suddenly feel extremely violated. Is this how celebrities feel?”
He blows out a breath of laughter. “You’re not a celebrity.”
“Tell that to the press that camped outside my apartment for two months. I considered faking my own death. It seemed easier.”
“I’d say the ridiculous green hair was a better call.”
