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Assignments like these are what FBI agents do, right? On a grander scale but still, using the same techniques. This might be like one of the exercises that Barron is given, except that this one is mine. A little investigation for me to practice on in secret. So that when I finally join up, I’ll be better than him at something.
A little investigation to prove to myself that I am making the right decision.
I’m still running through ways to draw out the blackmailer when the beauty queen program is interrupted by news footage of Governor Patton. He’s on the steps of the courthouse, surrounded by microphones, railing loudly.
“Did you know that government bodies exist staffed entirely by curse workers—curse workers with access to your confidential files? Did you know that no one requires testing of applicants to government jobs to determine who among us are potentially dangerous criminals?” he says. “We must root all workers out of our government! How can we expect our legislators to be safe when their staffers, their aides, even their security team could be seeking to undermine policies directed at bringing these sinister predators to light, because those policies would inconvenience them.”
Then we cut to the reporter’s serious, perfectly made-up face and are told that a senator from New York, Senator James Raeburn, has made a statement denouncing Patton’s position. When they show Senator Raeburn, he appears in front of a blue curtain, at a lectern with the state insignia on it.
“I am deeply disappointed by the recent words and actions of Governor Patton.” He’s young for a senator, with a smile like he’s used to talking people into and out of things, but he doesn’t look slick. I want to like him. He reminds me of my dad. “Are we not taught that those who have confronted temptation and triumphed over it are more virtuous than those who have yet to face their own demons? Are not those who are born hyperbathygammic and tempted into a life of crime—tempted to use their power for their own benefit—are not those people just like us, who resist temptation and choose instead to work to shield us from their less moral kind, are they not to be celebrated rather than treated to Governor Patton’s witch hunt?”
The newscaster tells us that more details will be forthcoming and more statements are expected from other members of government.
I fumble for the remote and switch the channel to a game show. Jace has his laptop open and doesn’t seem to notice, for which I am grateful. I guess anything that distracts Patton from talking about my mother is a good thing, but I still hate the sight of him.
* * *
Before dinner I head up to my room to drop off my schoolbooks. As I get to the top of the stairs, I see Sam storming down the hall. His hair is a mess and his neck and cheeks are flushed. His eyes look too bright, the way they do in people who are in love, people who are enraged, and people who are completely bonkers.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“She wants all her stuff back.” He slams his hand into the wall, cracking the plaster, a move so uncharacteristic that I just stare. He’s a big guy, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen him use his size for violence.
“Daneca?” I ask, like an idiot, because of course he’s talking about Daneca. It’s just that the whole thing doesn’t make sense. They’ve been fighting, sure, but the fight is over something stupid. They both care about each other—surely more than they care about an exaggerated misunderstanding. “What happened?”
“She called me and told me it was over. That it had been over for weeks.” He sags now, arm bent against the wall, his forehead resting on his arm. “Didn’t even want to see me to get her things. I told her that I was sorry—over and over I told her—and that I would do anything to get her back. What else am I supposed to do?”
“Maybe she just needs some time,” I say.
He shakes his head pitifully. “She’s seeing somebody else.”
“No way,” I say. “Come on. You’re just being—”
“She is,” he says. “She said she was.”
“Who?” I try to think of anyone I saw Daneca talking to—anyone who she looked at lingeringly or walked down the halls with more than once. I try to think of any guy who stayed behind after HEX meetings to talk with her. But I come up blank. I can’t picture her with anyone.
He shakes his head. “She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Look,” I say, “I’m really sorry, man. Let me dump my bag and we can go off campus—get some pizza or something. Ditch this place for a couple of hours.” I was planning on meeting Mina tonight in the dining hall, but I push that thought aside.
Sam shakes his head. “Nah. I just want to be by myself for a little while.”
“You sure?”
He nods and lurches away from the wall to thud down the stairs.
I go into our room and toss my bag of books onto my bed. I’m about to go out again, when I see Lila, on her knees, peering under Sam’s dresser. Her short gold hair is hanging in her face, the sleeves of her dress shirt rolled up. I notice that she’s not wearing tights, just ankle socks.
“Hey,” I say, stunned.
She sits up. I can’t read her expression, but her cheeks look a little pink. “I didn’t think you were going to be here.”
“I live here.”
She turns so that she’s sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, pleated skirt riding high over her thighs. I try not to look, not to recall what her skin felt like against mine, but it’s impossible. “Do you know where Daneca’s stuffed owl is? She swears she left it here, but Sam says he never saw it.”
“I never saw it either.”
