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I nod, then think better of it. “Well, for a second he was cornered. Then he went for the fence.”
“We found a broken plank near the scene. Did he swing it at you?”
“No,” I say. “No, nothing like that happened. Maybe he stepped on it as he was running. It all happened so fast.”
“Could you describe him?” She leans forward in her seat, peering at me, like she can see my every fleeting thought in the involuntary flinches and flushes of my body. I really hope that’s not true. I’m a good liar, but I’m not world class. My experience has been mostly with two different kinds of adults—criminals, who act in ways I can anticipate, and marks, who can be manipulated. But with Yulikova I’m out of my depth. I have no idea what she’s capable of.
“Not really,” I say with a shrug.
She nods a few times, like she’s taking that in. “Is there anything else you want to tell me about what happened?”
I know I should admit to taking the gun. If I confess now, though, she’ll ask me why I took it. Or maybe she’ll just ask Barron what we were doing. Who we were tailing. If he’s in the right mood, he might even tell her. Or worse, he’ll make up a story so fanciful that it leads her straight to Lila faster even than the truth would.
It’s not that I want to be this person, doing the wrong thing again, lying to Yulikova. I want to learn how to do the right thing, even if I hate it. Even if I hate her for it. I just can’t this time.
But next time—next time I’ll do better. I’ll tell her everything. Next time.
“No,” I say. “It really was no big thing. I was just stupid. I’ll be more careful.”
She picks up a clipped packet of papers from her desk and drops them in front of me with a significant look. I know what they say. Once I sign them, I’m no longer a regular citizen. I will be agreeing to a private set of regulations and laws. If I screw up, I will have agreed to be tried in a private court. No more jury of my peers. “Maybe it’s time for you to leave Wallingford early and train with Barron and all the other students full-time.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“And you’ve said no before.” She smiles. Then, opening up one of the drawers of the desk, she pulls out a tissue. She coughs into it. I see something dark stain the paper before she wads it up. “I’m guessing you’re going to say no again now.”
“I want to be a federal agent and work for the LMD. I want—” I stop. I want to be better. I want you to make me better. I can’t say that, though, because it’s crazy. Instead I say, “Becoming a high school dropout isn’t exactly a dream of mine. And anyway, my immunity agreement—”
She cuts me off. “We might be able to scare up a diploma for you.”
I imagine not having to see Lila, her white-gold hair long enough to curl at the nape of her neck, her smoky voice distracting enough that I can barely pay attention to whatever it is that I’m doing when she speaks. I imagine not having to grit my teeth to avoid calling her name every time I pass her in the hall. “Soon. I just want to finish out the year.”
Yulikova nods, like she’s disappointed but not surprised. I wonder about her coughing and the tissue—was that blood on it? I don’t feel right asking. None of this feels right.
“How are you doing with the charms?” she asks.
I reach into my pocket and pull them out. Five perfect circles of stone with holes bored in the middle. Five transformation amulets to stop a curse from a worker like me, not that there are many workers like me. Making the charms was draining, but at least there was no blowback involved. They’d been sitting in my glove compartment for a week, waiting for me to deliver them.
“Very rare,” she says. “Have you ever worn one of these amulets and cast a curse?”
I shake my head. “What would happen if I did?”
Yulikova smiles. “A lot of nothing. The stone would crack and you would be exhausted.”
“Oh,” I say, oddly disappointed. I don’t know what I was expecting. Shaking my head at myself, I drop the amulets onto the desk in front of her. They roll and spin and clatter like coins. She looks at them for a long moment, then raises her eyes to me.
“It’s personally important that you stay safe.” She takes another sip of her tea and smiles again.
I know that she probably says that to dozens of potential recruits, but I still like it when she says it to me.
On the way out her gloved hand touches my arm briefly. “Have you heard from your mother?”
Yulikova’s voice is soft, like she’s really concerned about a seventeen-year-old boy on his own and scared for his mother. But I bet she’s fishing for information. Information I wish I had.
“No,” I say. “She could be dead for all I know.” For once I’m not lying.
“I’d like to help her, Cassel,” she says. “Both you and Barron are important to us here in the program. We’d like to keep your family together.”
I nod noncommittally.
