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Suko seemed reluctant to mention the Agency, as if
she didn't want to break the illusion that this was just another girls' boardinghouse. As she spoke, the old man was carefully laying out the platters and taking the covers off. “When he is not cooking, Philip also gives talks about the history of the romantic period in literature. Zan, please.”

“Sorry,” Zan said. She had still been laughing; her face was red.

Gaia smiled politely.

“I'm sorry, too,” Zan went on. “Gaia and me—we're both sorry.”

There was something strange about Zan—about the way she was acting. Something strange about the way her face looked. Gaia couldn't put her finger on what it was, but it was quite different from the way she'd been upstairs.

“Are there other girls living here?” Gaia asked Suko.

Suko nodded enthusiastically. “Zan you have met. Her father also is busy, working for the federal government, as your father is. Alexa, at the end of the table, is the daughter of a—”

“Shooting people,” Zan said loudly. “Dad's in the Middle East, shooting people in secret. That's his gig. That's—”

“Zan!” Suko was sitting bolt upright, glaring at Zan. “Please!”

“Why he can't be home for Christmas or Thanksgiving or my birthday. What?”

The doorbell rang. Gaia recognized the sound from earlier, when Jake had rung it. It was a loud electric buzzer.

“You're being impolite,” Suko told her. The clanking of silverware went on as Philip continued to move around the table, serving each of them. “We've discussed this. Alexa, would you get the door, please? And explain that we're eating.”

“May I be excused?” Zan said.

She's high,
Gaia realized suddenly.
She's high on something.

Now that Gaia had figured it out, she was sure that was what was making Zan's pretty face look so strange. Her pupils were expanded, like black basketballs. Her face was flushed. Her movements were exaggerated.

Alexa, the quiet girl in the pink shirt, had stood up; she was folding her napkin, heading out of the room to answer the door.

“No, Zan—you must eat with us. There aren't special rules for you,” Suko said patiently. “Gaia, I'll explain the rules to you in detail later. There's a curfew each night that you have to obey—that's one thing. We like to have everyone accounted for by 10
P.M
. on weeknights, 11
P.M
. on weekends.”

“But—” Gaia was beginning to feel physically claustrophobic, like she was locked in a closet. Philip had ambled around the table and was doling
out fragrant beef teriyaki for her. “I'm sorry, but I can't understand why—”

“
See
her! I need to see Gaia Moore right now!”

The loud male voice came from the front door. Now they all could hear it.

And Gaia realized that she recognized the voice. She knew it very well.

The bright light shone on Oliver's face, and for a moment Gaia was shocked at how much he looked like Loki.

Family Emergency

OLIVER COULDN'T MAKE HEADS OR
tails of it. He was convinced that those men had no more been CIA than they were space aliens. But they'd wanted to know about the serum—and they'd wanted to know about Gaia. And that meant they'd be looking for her and trying to ask her the same questions they'd asked him.

Gaia was tough—Oliver knew that better than almost anyone on earth. But she could be caught unawares. She could be surprised. She could be
fooled
—that was the approach that had worked best for him when he'd been Loki. It was easier to fool a young girl than it was a mature adult. Play to her emotions, threaten her loved ones . . . it was simple. And she could be overcome by force if you had enough men willing to endure broken bones. She wasn't invincible.

But you couldn't scare her.

Which was too bad, Oliver thought. Sometimes it was
good
to be scared. It gave you a sense of what was dangerous and what to avoid. And it kept you from doing anything stupid, like trying to fight a huge organization single-handed. A girl born without the fear gene was still vulnerable—even more so.

“I'm sorry, sir,” the girl in the pink shirt was saying.
The streetlight reflected on her thick glasses. “I can't let you until the governess—”

“I'm her
uncle,
” Oliver snapped. “Her father is out of town on business—that's why she's here. I need to speak to her. It's—it's a family emergency.”

“Sir—”

“I need to
see
her!” Oliver hadn't meant to raise his voice, but he was losing his patience. “I need to see Gaia Moore right now! Damn it, it's
important
!”

“Oliver.”

He stopped talking and stared past the girl in the pink shirt. He knew that voice very well.

It was Gaia. She was standing in the vestibule next to a wide white staircase. A Japanese woman in a business suit stood behind her, and—in a doorway, back in the distance—Oliver could just see another blond girl, leaning into the vestibule, staring at him in frank curiosity.

“Oliver, what's going on?”

She wasn't hurt. Oliver was so relieved, he nearly sank to the ground.

“Gaia,” Oliver said, stepping past the girl into the building. “Gaia, I'm so sorry to bother you here, but there's been a—”

“Stop, please,” the Japanese woman said. She had held up her hand like a crossing guard. “Sir, no guests are allowed without authorization—and certainly no male guests.”

“I'm her uncle,” Oliver said doggedly. “I have to speak with my niece
now.
”

“Can't you just give us a moment?” Gaia asked the woman. “Please, Suko.”

“The rules are—”

As Oliver watched, Gaia leaned to whisper in the Japanese woman's ear. Oliver strained to hear, but he couldn't. The Japanese woman listened, looking avidly at Oliver. And she started to nod.

Safe

“SUKO, COULD YOU PLEASE ALLOW
an exception to the rule?” Gaia whispered. “He's my uncle, and he wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. It's my first night here. Please?” Gaia didn't feel comfortable pleading. But she really wanted to hear what Oliver had to say. It was so strange—his showing up out of the blue and insisting on talking—that she was determined to listen to him. Sometimes begging was the only option.

Suko nodded slowly, staring at Oliver. It seemed to be working.

“Just let me talk to him for a couple of minutes,” Gaia went on. She was sure Oliver couldn't hear her—he was too far away. “Then I'll get rid of him—I'll talk him into leaving.”

“All right,” Suko said dubiously. She nodded at Oliver, smiling. “Gaia will step outside and speak with you on the front steps. But just for a few minutes.”

“Hey, no fair,” Zan pointed out sullenly from behind them.

“Thanks, Suko.”

“Yes—thank you,” Oliver said gratefully.

Gaia stepped out onto the boardinghouse's front landing. The night air was cool. She pulled Collingwood's thick door shut behind her. Now they were standing in darkness. Oliver's face was hidden in shadow; she saw just a halo of orange streetlamp light shining around his head.

“Oliver, what's—”

“Thank God you're safe,” Oliver said. “Tom never told me where he was sending you. I've spent the entire day just trying to track you down.” He reached out as if to hug her, but he seemed embarrassed. He took her hand, squeezing it awkwardly before letting it go.

“What do you mean, ‘safe'? What happened?”

“I was writing you a letter,” Oliver began, and then started over. “Two men. Two men came to my house this morning, claiming to be CIA agents. They tried to interrogate me.”

Gaia was confused. “Didn't the CIA already debrief you about—?”

“Yes,” Oliver said sharply. He had seized her arm. “But this was different. That's my point, Gaia. They
weren't
real CIA. They
couldn't
have been. They were giving me an act, but I saw right through it.”

“Oliver, are you sure they weren't CIA?” Gaia asked carefully. “I mean, they could have had some follow-up questions.”

“Of
course
I'm sure,” Oliver said harshly. “Do you think I'm a fool? They wanted to know about you, about the awful things I'd done to you in the past. They wanted lab records and doctors' logs. They wanted to know about that serum. You remember the serum?”

Gaia remembered. Looking up at the dark shadow of Oliver's face, looming over her, she remembered vividly. She remembered the straps that had held her down, and she remembered this man—her uncle—carefully, brilliantly lying to her.

But that was all in the past.

“These two cut-rate gunmen came to my house with an absurd story and tried to get me to talk about you, Gaia. I refused, but they wouldn't listen, and I had to attack them before they would leave.”

“You
attacked
them?” Gaia's heart was sinking. “Oliver, that's exactly the kind of thing that can get you in trouble with the Agency. You're supposed to be on your best behavior. Don't you understand that they're watching you like hawks?”

Behind Gaia the front door was creaking open. The bright light shone on Oliver's face, and for a moment Gaia was shocked
at how much he looked like Loki. It was a baleful stare of frustration that she remembered well.

Suko was standing there, smiling. “Excuse me,” she said. “But it is time now for Gaia to return inside.”

“Gaia,” Oliver said—and now he looked like a tired, confused man and not like a criminal mastermind at all—“I know they're watching me. I know I have to be on my best behavior. But I'm no fool. And I think you're in trouble again. Big trouble. We all are.”

Please,
Gaia thought weakly.
Please don't do this. Please don't pull me back into that world, Oliver. Into that life.

“Gaia, please come in now,” Suko whispered behind her.

It was time to go back into the boardinghouse.

And the thing was, it suddenly didn't seem so bad. Even with the druggie prep-school girl and the curfews, it wasn't so bad at all. She just had to get used to it.

“I think you should come with me tonight. I can protect you better than this—” He gestured at the building behind them.

“No.” Gaia didn't even have to think about it. There wasn't the slightest chance she would do that. “I'm sorry, Oliver. But I can't. I'm trying to get
away
from all that, don't you understand? After the Yuri thing I'm even more determined than ever to get
away from all of it—to start living a normal life.”

“We all want that,” Oliver said. “It's a nice fairy tale, but it's impossible. Come with me, Gaia,” he repeated. He was openly pleading now. “Please.”

I have a choice.
It was amazing how clear her head was suddenly.

“No,” Gaia said. “I'm sorry, Oliver, but I can't. I have to stay here.”

“They weren't real CIA,”
Oliver insisted. “Gaia, you've got to believe me.”

Behind Gaia, Suko was waiting. She seemed to recoil from Oliver's harsh tone.

“I'll be safe here,” Gaia promised. “Don't worry, Oliver. The Agency set this place up. It's a safe house. Suko's a black belt.”

“That is true,” Suko said primly.

“Please go, Oliver,” Gaia said gently. She reached up to touch his arm. “I'm really grateful for your concern. But it's . . . it's curfew. Right, Suko?”

Oliver looked down at her, and his expression was difficult to read. A blending of scorn and concern and love. And regret.

Then he turned away into the night. Gaia watched his stooped, beaten figure walking away. And then, with Suko smiling at her, she turned and went inside.

She didn't even scan the street to see if anyone was watching—she was sure that she was safe.

A Cold Voice

NIGHT HAD FALLEN.

Heather knew because the speaking clock in the lounge told her what time it was. She had no other way to tell.

For Heather Gannis, it was always pretty much night. The darkness was endless. For ages—for days, weeks, months—Heather had been completely blind, and a clock with a mechanical voice told her whether it was night or day.

So the darkness couldn't really increase her fear. But this night she was already so frightened that it didn't matter.

She didn't even want to think about the day she'd just had. She remembered it all—the voices, the questions, the fear. . . . She was so scared, she was still shivering, even though the room was warm. She couldn't help it.

The visitors had come early that afternoon. Right after lunch, in fact. Heather had taken her tray up to the counter—they all knew how to do that at the school without running into each other—and had navigated back to her room, following the edges of the walls as she always did.

And someone had been there.

It was obvious from the way the air felt. Heather came through her doorway, all ready to fall onto her bed and take a catnap, and she realized she wasn't alone.

“Hello?” Heather called out. “Hello?”

“Heather,” Mrs. Delgado said, “don't worry. Everything's fine.”

Mrs. Delgado was the superintendent of the school. Immediately Heather was nervous. What was the superintendent doing in her room? Furthermore, why was she insisting that everything was fine? People only said stuff like that when it wasn't true.

And, Heather realized, there were other people in the room. And a smell of aftershave or cologne that she didn't recognize. After all the months of blindness, Heather didn't make mistakes about things like that. She
knew
there were strangers in the room.