All I did was get Eames and Piper out of the lobby.
My stomach squeezes in a spasm of panic.
“Oh,” I breathe. “Oh,shit.”
Then I’m backing out of the closet, dragging Eameswith me. “Hey!” calls Carla, but I don’t answer. I can’t. There’s no time, none at all.
I fling the storage closet shut and press Matthew’s ringware to it, activating the lock and severing its connection to the building mainframe. At least Carla won’t be a problem again.
“What is it?” asks Eames. He takes me by the hand, his fingers cold with fear. “Augusta?”
“It wasn’t a coincidence you were there,” I say wildly. I know I’m not making sense, but the words just tumble out. “You weresupposedto be there.”
“Augusta,” he says again.
I rip free of his grip and sprint down the hallway. My heart is in my throat, my lungs ablaze as I run.Please, I think.Please, please, please. Let me be wrong. I don’t want to be right about this, not this—
The shadowed hallway feels far longer than before. Every step is too slow, too short. It’s like one of those dreams where you try to run, but every step feels like it’s through thick mud. Carla’s backpack is a weight against my shoulder, but I don’t pause to set it down.
I know what I’m going to find. I feel so stupid for not realizing until now.
The door to my apartment is ajar. Just a few inches—just enough to confirm my worst fear.
I pull the door open the rest of the way, frozen in the doorway.
The living room is empty. There is no sign of Consul or Piper.
“Piper!” Eames tears into the bedroom, but I don’t follow. There’s no point.
“I don’t,” says Eames, emerging from the bedroom. “I don’t—understand—”
There is no sign of a struggle. No evidence that Vale broke in.
But Piper is gone.
“She told you to go to the pool,” I say. I hear the words as though from a far distance. “Didn’t she?”
“What?” says Eames.
“I should’ve known,” I say. “I should’ve realized. The moment I was down in the basement, and they were wondering why Number Six hadn’t checked in yet…”
“What are you talking about?” asks Eames.
“Eames,” I answer. “Who told you to go down to the pool today?”
His eyes roam back and forth as he searches his memories. “Aunt Connie. I mean—Consul. She thought it might be a nice way to spend a Saturday.”
“Yes,” I say. “Exactly.”
The best way to play chess is to set up your pieces beforehand.
Understanding spills across his face. “Wait, you mean…”
I nod. “Consul’s working with Vale.”
24
“That can’t be,” says Eames. “She—she was protecting us.”
