Hey guys. Thanks for the amazing, amazing reviews! I hope you all are liking where this is going. This chapter will be answering a lot of questions about what happened to Josh, but as a warning, it will also deal with the grief from the previous chapter.
So I figured I should post a warning for death and grief.
- Brooke xx
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Ally Carter. I don't own copyright to canon Gallagher Girls series material and only own creative and intellectual property.
Chapter Rating: T
Fool Me Once, Fool Me Twice
Chapter Six
PROS AND CONS OF DRIVING BACK TO ROSEVILLE TO INTERROGATE YOUR DEAD EX-BOYFRIEND'S FAMILY
PRO: Absolutely nothing.
CON: Absolutely everything.
Sleet rained down on us once more, but it was different from the cold of the UK. The wipers squeaked across the windshield as we drove through the roads of Virginia, back in the direction of Gallagher. Towards Roseville. There was fog on the window pane and I could hear people trying to get me to talk. But I wasn't complying. I wanted to curl up and sleep. But that's exactly what I'd done ever since New Years' night. I hadn't spoken a word since we left the hotel and packed our bags to return to the States. I hadn't said a word as my various passports were taken in and out of my hands. I'd sulked. I'd eaten. I'd slept. Then I'd repeated the cycle all over again. Every time I'd opened my eyes I'd hoped someone would laugh and tell me this was a joke. Some horrible person with a sick sense of humor would tell me this is a prank, just so I could beat them up. But beating up anybody wouldn't bring back an innocent person who'd had an entire life ahead of him.
Two nights ago, I'd have done anything to come back here and visit the place that changed me. The place that was my home. Now? Now I dreaded it. Bex reached for my shoulder from the backseat and I shrugged it off. She'd understand. She was the one girl who I could let my negative emotions loose on, and she'd never bat an eyelid. She didn't say anything this time either. I watched the civilian traffic of the small town stare at us. Who could blame them? It had been one day since January first, and there were multiple tinted cars pulling into the once quiet North Bellis Drive.
The serenity of the place had been broken by the harsh weather and the harsher news we all carried in our hearts. Women stood by their windows, their hands pressed to their mouths. Men stared at the cars with horror in their eyes. Kids walked around, confused. Some were crying - presumably people who had known Josh. The entire street was mourning. It was ironic that I'd once watched this street and thought to myself that I had nothing in common with these people. But this tied us together.
When we pulled up outside the Abrams' residence, there were already police cars around the driveway. I could see the neighbors staring as the uniformed men walked in and out of the perfect house. It had once stood for pies and curtain swatches and Suzie, the lucky cat. It had stood for happiness and carefree and the entire life I could've never dreamed of having. Had it really been almost five years since I'd stood here? When had we all grown up? When had our worlds started crumbling down?
Townsend pulled the car over, his hands twisted around the steering wheel. I could see that he didn't want me here. But today he wasn't my boss. He was my uncle. He was my friend. And he knew I needed to know this. If there was anyone here who would tell us anything, then they'd tell it to me. I was the ex-girlfriend.
But as soon as the doors unlocked, I shook my head. Panic saturated my body. Tears filled my eyes and I spoke the first words I'd spoken since entering the country again.
"I can't. I can't go in there. They don't know what I am – what I do. They thought I used to go to Gallagher –"
"You don't have to lie to them about school. You can tell them you joined us after you left. You can tell them you're training with us."
Us meant FBI, today. This was what it meant to be a target of international terrorists. Working with every intelligence agency that we could work with. The official story was that Josh died in the fire that broke out at Gallagher over a year ago. But I couldn't tell them that he'd died to come see me. I couldn't tell them he'd died in place of a terrorist who set a spy school on fire.
This is what it meant to be caught up in our world. When you died in the middle of our messes, then your families never heard the whole truth, if they didn't have the clearance. I couldn't help but think of my own grandparents who never knew how my Dad died.
"Agent Morgan –" Townsend started and I interrupted him, suddenly.
"Solomon. Agent Solomon," I whispered. He looked surprised.
"I – I told Josh my last name was Solomon. I have to – we can't let them think that everything Josh and I had was a lie. They have to know that something in his life was pure and good."
But it wasn't, was it? It had been a lie too. And it had ended with lies and deception, as well. The idea of our disastrous relationship being the best thing in his short life was too painful to fathom. He hadn't even made it out of Roseville.
Townsend nodded and opened the door. I got out of the car, refusing to use an umbrella. The weather was harsh but I wasn't worried. My make up, my fancy hair, my fancy clothes – it had all been traded in for greys and simplicity. As if everything was suddenly simple now.
"Hey," Zach whispered from beside me, his own umbrella forgone. Behind him stood Bex. She wouldn't be coming in. More than one known Gallagher student in the FBI would be far too suspicious. I turned back to Zach who gave me an encouraging nod. I didn't hold his hand because I thought it would be a kick in the face to Josh's memory and his family. But his presence gave me strength to walk up to the house. There were cops and agents crawling all over the place, asking questions. But I found myself walking straight to the kitchen.
On the fridge were Joy's report cards, but it was obvious that her As had dropped to Bs. Her favorite tutor was gone. Beside her cards was one report card with Josh's name on it. It was from his sophomore year and among all the grades, there was one 'A' that was circled.
'Thanks Cammie' was written beside it and I noticed that it was an A in Chemistry. I staggered backwards, my hand coming up to muffle the cry that threatened to make itself known.
"Cammie?" came a sad voice from behind me. I turned around. I hadn't even noticed Mrs. Abrams sitting at the table. There was a mug of something in front of her but it looked like she'd ignored it. She looked like a ghost, her face all pale and splotchy. When she saw me, her face twisted into sobbing. Standing up and crossing the room, she threw her arms around me. I let her, hugging her back, as well. I had remembered her as the bright and happy woman who had hugged me at the dance. Now her devastated expression would forever remain imprinted in my head.
"He's gone. He's – gone," she cried. I nodded, my own tears welling in my eyes.
"He's just gone."
We stood there for a few seconds before she pulled away. She sniffled and took in my appearance, her eyes widening at the FBI badge clipped to my chest. She didn't even do the mental math to figure out if I was old enough to be in the field already. She simply smiled a watery smile. How? How could she find it in herself to?
"Josh would've been so happy. He would've been so proud."
Behind me, Zach was quiet. I was proud of him, for keeping a straight face through all of this. The pain in his eyes spoke volumes. He was hurting for me. He was hurting for this sweet mother whose pain could be blamed on his mother. He was hurting for himself because he didn't have a mother who would mourn him like this. I knew. I knew because I knew him just as much as he knew me.
There were harsh cries and screams from upstairs and Mrs. Abrams softly sobbed again.
"Joy. She's a mess. She can't believe he's gone. I don't think any of us can."
I could hear stomping upstairs, and I remembered how I'd reacted when I found out my Dad had gone MIA. A little girl whose world was torn apart. I felt like I couldn't breathe.
"I need some air," I blurted out and she blinked, a tear sliding down a cheek.
"I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Abrams. I am truly, very sorry," I whispered. "I'll be outside. I'm not the one – I'm not supposed to ask the questions."
The house was suffocating me. I never should've walked in here. It was too much. Mrs. Abrams seemed to understand because she hugged me again before I dashed for the back door.
"Cammie," a deep voice whispered and I almost stopped in my tracks. It was so like Josh, that voice. Maybe he was alive. Maybe this was a cruel joke. I turned, hoping to see a ghost of him, but it was only Mr. Abrams.
"Mr. Abrams – I –"
"You'll come to the funeral, won't you, Cammie?" he simply asked.
I didn't answer before I broke free of the kitchen. But I couldn't escape him. The sides of the house that my friends had scaled to bug the house; the bushes I'd hidden behind; the trashcans with the crazy dogs. It all screamed of a time gone by.
"Gallagher Girl," Zach said and I turned around. I didn't even care that it was disrespectful because he was the only one keeping me from going under. I hugged him tight and he kept his arms around me, the sleet falling over us, cold and deathly.
I didn't realize I was crying again. He held me close, saying nothing to comfort me. There was nothing he could say.
"Agent Solomon," Townsend said, from behind us. We turned around, watching him walk up the side of the house.
"Are you done already?" I asked.
"We have a lead. It turns out that whoever wanted Joshua's identity to remain hidden, made sure to plant a...replacement. The night of the fire, his parents found a note in his room which said he was leaving for his cousins' house for the summer, and that he would head to college directly."
College. He'd gotten into college. He'd gotten his ticket out. But he'd never had a chance to cash it in.
"Didn't they notice further lack of communication?" asked Zach. "His friends, his other family?"
Townsend shook his head.
"Someone set up an email account for him, keeping in frequent touch with everyone Joshua would've kept in touch with. It was an elaborate lie. But it's the work of someone who wanted their cover to remain deep. Well, at least until now."
I felt sick hearing those words. At least, until now. It made it sound like all this evidence and truth was coming out just when it was supposed to. Like we were still dancing to someone else's tune.
"What's that?" I asked, noticing the white sheet in his hand. He held out the zip lock bag for me to see. Inside it was a worn out piece of paper, folded and refolded many times. In all caps was the runaway note left with Josh's name at the bottom. It was perfect – the words were exactly what I could imagine him saying.
"We need to run handwriting matches but –" Zach started. "With all caps, it won't be easy."
"Cammie?" came a small voice from afar. We all turned to see DeeDee. She was holding up a pale yellow umbrella and I think it was the first time I hadn't seen her in pink. Her eyes were swollen and she was biting her lip as if she didn't want to cry.
"DeeDee," I whispered. "Are you on winter break?"
"No. I never left Roseville. I deferred to help Mr. and Mrs. Abrams with their shop."
She really was the sweetest girl in Roseville, Virginia. Who else would do that for her runaway boyfriend's parents? I had been right to think DeeDee hadn't made it out of Roseville. I was glad she was alive. But it was overshadowed by the fact that Josh wasn't.
"Is that the runaway note he left?" DeeDee asked, walking up to me and snatching it from my hands.
"Miss –" Townsend started. "That's evidence which we need to scan –"
"You don't need to scan it," DeeDee said. I felt a chill run down my spine. I'd never seen her face look so – troubled and angry. I'd never heard her voice sound so dangerous. She sounded like something inside her had been permanently damaged.
"Do you know who wrote this, DeeDee?" asked Zach. She looked up, recognizing him from the exchange program.
"Yeah, I'd recognize that crappy handwriting anywhere. Dillon wrote that."
I'd once wished desperately for Dillon to pick a fight with me, just so I could knock him down a peg or two. Right now, that's all I could think of. My shoes smacked the puddles on the concrete as I ran away from the Abrams' home. My hands were shaking as I headed down to the Jones' residence, knowing it was a few houses down from Josh's. Water dripped down into my eyes but I didn't care. Dillon sat on his porch, looking like he was lost. I took off the FBI badge as I stormed up the steps, not even stopping to give any greeting. He noticed me, immediately standing up.
I could tell. I could tell he had some "witty", sexist remark to make.
"Well, well, if it isn't Miss –"
I didn't really know what made me do it. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best move to make. I mean, I was on duty (sort of). But I couldn't help it. All I could picture was Josh in that fire, and Dillon abandoning him and erasing the trail that led to him. Before the words were fully out of his mouth, I'd reached out and slapped him across the face. My palm stung. The whip like sound it made was louder than the storm brewing above us.
Dillon spat out blood from the corner of his mouth. I stared at him, begging him to fight back.
"Bitch," he said, already charging at me. He slammed me against the porch pillar and I was quick to throw him back. That was the problem with these quarterbacks who thought they could bully people around with their size. The huger they were, the harder they fell. Anger and hurt fueled my actions more than training. My hands went around his throat, pinning him to the floor. He threw me off, rolling us over. But he didn't get very far. Townsend yanked him off, pinning his hands behind his back.
"What the hell, man?" he struggled as handcuffs were slapped across his wrists. "She attacked me!"
"Agent Solomon!" Townsend reprimanded as I stood up. His eyes said he was thoroughly disappointed in me, and I could tell. Family or not, this would go in my record. I found myself acting violently, regardless. I made a move to go back onto Dillon, but Bex and Zach held me back.
"Cam, that's enough," Zach whispered. There was something deadly in his tone that made me think he wanted Dillon to get beaten to a pulp. He was just stopping this from getting worse for me.
"Agent Solomon, ha!" Dillon snickered. "What a joke. You know you can't run around and attack innocent civilians."
"I'm on probation already, and don't think I won't risk indefinite suspension to hand your ass back to you," I spat. "You on the other hand just assaulted someone on duty. And you're not so innocent yourself, are you? They're taking you in for lying about Josh."
Dillon looked stunned for a second before he noticed DeeDee hovering on the last porch step. She was scowling at him, her umbrella clutched tightly in her hands. For one second, I thought she was going to hit him on the head with it. I could tell he wanted to say something to her, and I was ready to come to her defense. But she just walked up to him and landed in a slap of her own. Dillon looked further stunned.
"I'm not an agent of any kind. Don't think I won't hesitate to hand your ass to you." Her voice was shaking and it was obvious she could never take Dillon in a fight. I stepped in front of her so that Dillon wouldn't see the way she was shaking hard. But I felt pride sneak up inside me as I watched her turn on her heel and walk off. I turned back to Dillon, who was struggling.
"Mr. Jones," Townsend stressed. "You're already in trouble for obstruction of justice in a possible homicide, not to mention possible accessory. You've also just assaulted an agent. Do you really want to add resisting arrest to the list?"
Dillon stopped fighting as Townsend continued to recite him his rights. I don't know if it was because of Townsend's tone or the fact that too many big, dangerous sounding words had been spoken to him.
However, my cockiness was short lived. As it turned out, I still wasn't allowed to be present for his interrogation, thanks to my mini attempt at taking justice into my own hands. So, instead, I paced my mom's office at Gallagher. The halls were mostly empty, save for a handful of people who'd decided to stay for winter break. The quiet was deafening as I sat on her couch, my arms crossed.
"Are you okay?" Zach asked me, sitting down beside me. He offered me a cup of tea but the idea of tea just reminded me of Josh and I turned it away.
"No. But smacking him around felt better than it should have."
Bex cursed Dillon in ways that would've made Madame Dabney –
"Miss Baxter! That is not the kind of language we teach our young ladies!" said Madame Dabney as she walked into the office. Well, that's what it would've made her say.
"And Miss Morgan! Assault, really!" she shook her head.
"He had it coming," Bex and I said at the same time. Before Madame Dabney could refute that, my mom and Townsend walked into the office. I shot up.
"What did he say? What did you find out? Did he say who convinced them to do it?"
"See for yourself," my mom whispered, inserting a drive into the USB port of her television. She clicked a button and Dillon's interrogation tape played before our eyes.
"Look, I said –" said Dillon and the officer in front of him held up a hand.
"Careful, Mr. Jones. We told you. Whatever you say can be used against you. Just tell us the truth and we can try and get you immunity. If you tell us who made you do this then we can help you and your friends."
"My only friend, who knows the truth, is dead because of that bitch."
I swallowed thickly and Zach squeezed my hand. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault. I had to keep saying that until I believed it.
"Could you be more specific?"
"That redhead creep!" Dillon said and everyone in the room sucked in a breath. Redhead creep. But that was impossible. Had Catherine planned her escape so far in advance, that she'd met them before she'd been locked away in our school? No. It was impossible. There was no way she'd have known from all that time ago. No way it would've been planned in adva - then I remembered. It was a mole who brought them in.
"Mr. Jones, I think you should start from the start –"
"Which start? The start where Josh started sleeping around with Blondie or –"
I clenched my teeth, willing myself to not smash the television into pieces as more lies about me spewed from his mouth. My fingers balled into fists as I took a step forward. My mom pushed me back, eyeing me carefully.
"I mean when things went downhill."
Dillon took a deep breath.
"The night of the fire was the night after our graduation. We were all partying at the diner because – well, you know. School was finally done with! And a couple of kids were joking about sneaking into Gallagher and messing around with the rich girls. Harmless pranks and stuff. Probably TP a side of the mansion."
"Was this something you'd done previously?"
"No. We'd talked about it but we never actually did it. We've never been inside that place. Anyway, Josh and I were chilling around and this chick shows up. She's got red hair and she looks fine as hell. And apparently, she's overheard us bitching about Gallagher. She tells us she used to go there until they kicked her out for using a cellphone or some crap like that. We laughed, shared a couple of drinks. I mean, anyone who hates Gallagher and looks like that is definitely on my side."
Dillon chuckled. The interrogator didn't look amused. Dillon cleared his throat and continued.
"Then this girl starts freaking out because it's some kind of senior tradition at Gallagher to haze the juniors a week before school ends. And she's worried about her kid sister who goes there. We told her that if she got kicked out for using her cell then it couldn't be that bad. But she insisted that it was bad enough. She asked us if knew anyone there who we could get help from, because apparently this shit took place off campus. So, I told her we knew Cammie, who was a senior."
"How did you know Miss Cameron?"
"I told you she was messing around –"
"Was she in any relationship at that point with Joshua Abrams?"
"No. He dumped her sorry ass."
"Yeah right," Bex scoffed under her breath. But I was hanging onto every word.
"Continue, Mr. Jones."
"Josh was all for stopping the hazing crap because, apparently, he'd known Cammie got hazed once. I don't know how he knew that but... whatever. I'm pretty sure he just lied as an excuse to go see her. So, this chick told us that she'd meet us outside the gates but that she could only get one of us in. So, Josh volunteered. He said if he asked Cam really nicely, then she'd agree to put an end to it. But if I tried then she'd punch me or something. Clearly. So we met her outside the gates and she told us she'd drive him in and then it would be all cool. Getting out wouldn't be a problem."
At this point Dillon's voice and story had lost all its steam. His voice lowered and his eyes stared off into space. I couldn't tell if he was actually sorry about Josh dying or not, but I didn't feel even a little sorry for him.
"Then?"
"Josh told me to head back to town and that he'd meet me at DeeDee's later. But I knew he was going to be messed up after seeing Cam. So, I waited outside. And I waited and waited and he never came out. Then the fire started. I started panicking, obviously, and tried to tell one of the guards that my friend was in there. But there was nobody there – probably trying to put the fire out."
"Why didn't you come to us, Mr. Jones?"
"I tried!" he snapped. "I was going to get into my car and drive straight for the PD. But then the redhead was waiting by my car. Before I could even ask her how the hell she got out, she told me that if anyone found out what we'd done we could go to jail for breaking and entering. I told her I wasn't scared of her but she said she could send us in for sexual harassment or some crap because she had us on tape joking about mooning – which we never did! I told you, we'd never been to that place. She told me if I went to jail then I'd lose my football scholarship and shit. I was freaking out!"
"What did she say?"
"Nothing. She just said she'd keep in touch and she vanished. When I went home that night I knew Josh hadn't made it out. Then I received an email from an anonymous address telling me to sneak into his room and leave the runaway note. So, I did it. I mean, I've known him my whole life. I know how he talks. I thought I was done then, because nothing happened all summer. I thought I'd go to college and it would all be behind me."
"But it wasn't, was it, Mr. Jones?"
"No. Apparently I had to keep pretending to be Josh on the internet. Emails, chats and all that crap. I had to make sure everyone in his family believed he was safe."
"What about his college admittance?"
"I had to email them telling he was declining their offer, so they wouldn't contact his parents. Look, I'm sorry okay but I was scared – hey! Where are you going?"
"Thank you for your help."
"You'd said you'd get me immunity! You said –"
"We'll see what we can do."
Townsend paused the tape and I sat down heavily on the chair across from my mother's table.
"The mole," I whispered. "She was the redhead. The agent who got Josh in and then left without getting her hands dirty."
Nobody said anything.
"Did he give a name?"
"She called herself Cathy, according to Dillon and I'm assuming it's a nickname for Catherine since she didn't want to use her own," Townsend said.
"What about sketch artists?"
"They're on it but I doubt it'll be much help. Dillon was drunk that night, as were most of the kids in that diner. Nobody can remember her face well enough."
Like a chameleon. Nothing worth remembering. Nothing worth recalling.
"Someone has to!" I snapped, and once more I realized my voice was raised.
"Nobody knew who she was, Cam," my mom said. "We checked our own records, our own tapes. No redhead was seen leaving or entering the Academy that night."
"Someone knows. Someone knows," I whispered desperately, turning to look at Zach. But he was staring off into the distance, with his arms crossed. For some reason, I found myself unable to reach out for him.
It didn't rain the next day. There was not a cloud in sight. The sunlight beamed across the lawns as I drove out of the school again, this time dressed completely in black. I wasn't allowed to go alone but I could tell nobody really wanted to go for the funeral. But I had to. I had to say my goodbyes. It was cruel how happy the day looked when it was so sad.
Black was not a color made for DeeDee, I decided as I got out of the car and walked into the cemetery. The girl in question walked ahead of me, her head bowed low. Everyone was present there - or it felt like that, anyway. It looked like the entire town of Roseville had come together to mourn Josh.
I knew I should've but I couldn't listen to a single word that the priest was saying. Because while the casket before me was new, the remains inside it had already been buried once. Somewhere in this graveyard there was a freshly dug up grave with my enemy's name on it. Beside me stood DeeDee, her hands shaking hard. I could hear her sobbing and I tried not to focus on it. I tried to focus on counting the blades of grass at my feet. I tried to count prime number squares in my head. I even tried to remember how many shades of nail polish Carrie kept hidden around our Henle Hall apartment (forty two, not counting repetitions). But all I could think of was the fire and the bomb and the fact that there was next to nothing left of Josh.
"Joshua Adamson Abrams was -" said someone - I didn't even know who - but I felt tears fall down my cheeks. I gasped, bringing a hand up to muffle my cries and DeeDee's arm reached out to hold my free hand. I squeezed it hard. If I hurt her, she didn't show it. I doubted that my strength was what was hurting her. I bit my lip, hard, to keep my cries muffled as my entire body shuddered.
"Cammie," DeeDee whispered, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see that people were waiting for me and I realized it was my turn to say something. I stumbled forward to the coffin, pressing my hand to the fresh bouquet of roses on top of it. I added my own red rose to the pile and kissed the smooth wood.
"Hey, Josh?" I whispered, fighting back tears. "Tell Suzie she's a lucky cat."
I was trembling as I walked back, my back hunched over. I couldn't bear to look at them lower the casket. I knew it was the worst thing for me to have my back turned, but I couldn't. When people started to leave, I caught up to DeeDee who was walking towards her car.
"Hey," I said and she turned around, wiping her nose. "DeeDee."
"Hi, Cam. Are you going to their house?"
"No, no, I won't be there. I just – I wanted to –"
"I know," she said, reaching out to squeeze my hand, again. "I get it."
"Josh was big on free will, you know?" I said. "I mean…I'm sure you heard the speech about the shop."
"More times than I can count," she chuckled, but her eyes looked like she was trying hard not to cry again.
"He wouldn't have wanted you to stay back here for him. He'd want you to go out and be happy, DeeDee."
Her smile faltered before she shook her head.
"I'm helping Mr. and Mrs. Abrams. They're nice to me. The pay is decent. And I get to stay close to home. There's nothing more I could ask for, Cam."
"But there's a whole world out there."
She smiled again.
"Then you should go see it. We should both be happy in our own worlds. That's what Josh would've wanted."
Then she turned around and walked off. I would've followed her but something else caught my eye in the distance. Zach stood leaning against the car. He hadn't worn funeral clothes, since he didn't plan on staying with me through it. He'd chosen to wait for me. Instead, he looked shabby in jeans and a loose hoodie. His hair was a mess and he hadn't shaved in two days. I stopped and stared at him. Ever since that night on the rooftop, I felt like I wasn't the only one who'd lost a little something. He'd been nothing but supportive, but I was a spy for a reason. I saw things when people thought I wasn't looking. He looked more than just tired or worried. He looked...demented.
"Hey, Gallagher Girl," he said as I walked up to him. His eyes didn't shine, and he wasn't smiling as he said it.
"Hey, Blackthorne Boy," I replied, leaning against the car next to him. "Are you okay?"
"I should be asking you that. You don't look okay."
"Neither do you," I whispered, holding his hand. "Zach –"
"We should head back." He turned to open the car door, but I reached out and stopped him.
"No, wait. Zach, I want you to know that this isn't easy for me. Josh was important to me. But I wasn't in love with him. Just because I'm devastated doesn't mean I haven't stopped loving you. I still love you," I said, putting my hands on his chest. He frowned for a second before shaking his head.
"That's what you think's bothering me? I know that, Cam. I know you're going through a hard time. I'm not jealous or anything."
"You're not? Because that stuff Dillon said wasn't true. I didn't sleep -"
"No, I know. I'm angry, and sad, and worried but I'm not jealous. I don't want this for you. I love you. I never wanted this to happen to you and it did."
"Then why won't you talk to me?"
He shrugged, shaking his head again.
"You're not going to leave me too, are you?" I said. My voice sounded scared, mirroring what I felt inside. I was broken inside over losing Josh. But if I lost Zach – I'd forget how to live. I couldn't lose him. My imagination attacked me with images of Zach dying; of Zach's body being lowered into the ground. The idea of it alone was more painful than all of this combined. And all of this hurt an awful lot. If that was Zach's funeral I'd just attended –
Tears welled in my eyes just imagining it and he pulled me close. His hands went around me, hugging me to him as I cried into his shoulder. My fingers dug into the fleece of the hoodie, twisting it tight and holding him close to me. I refused to let go even when he tried to pull away, desperate to never let him get separated from me. I felt like if I turned my back on anybody I loved, they'd vanish when I turned back around.
"Hey -" he whispered and I cried harder, pressing my face into his neck.
"Cammie..." he said, prying my hands free and holding my shoulders.
"I won't leave you. Ever."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
"Then we can go." He kissed the top of my head and chuckled. But as he got into the car, I noticed he wasn't smiling even a little bit.
The drive back was silent and when we crossed the gates of Gallagher I knew I'd be saying goodbye soon. I had to get back to Georgetown for spring semester. As mundane as it sounded, I had to forego all the turmoil and pain Cammie was going through and put on the Lauren hat again. These past few weeks had felt like another lifetime and it was time to put an end to it. Zach and I were both quiet as we walked through the front gates. I wanted to reach out for his hand but I heard footsteps. There was a very bright and happy voice approaching us from the hallway and we both stopped to listen.
"And I'm so, so happy here. I know it's supposed to be safe and after everything that happened... but it's amazing here, D! I'm really learning to be something and not just – CAMMIE!" a voice squealed as the girl rounded the corner. I recognized Amy right away – or Princess Amirah as her real name was. I wasn't surprised to know that she'd stayed here for winter. After the Circle had failed to assassinate her, she'd needed to go on lockdown.
But I couldn't bring myself to show the same enthusiasm because my eyes were locked on the person who stood behind Amy – a girl with the same eyes as the Princess, and the same blood running through her veins.
"Lauren?" she gasped, and then turned to look at Zach. "Ivan? What's going on?"
"Dayna…" I managed to mumble, my stomach dropping to my feet.
There was silence once more in my mother's office, where we all sat. A whistle was blowing in the background where water boiled for tea and Madame Dabney shuffled around. With the tinkering of china, I knew that she was just trying to overcome the silence in the room. She was one of the most refined people I knew and even she was making an awful lot of noise.
I think it was obvious that Dayna was beyond confused. It took both my mom and Townsend to explain to her how they'd needed to assign protection details to everyone in Amirah's family. How I had volunteered, wanting desperately to do something for Amirah, other than watch her stay in Gallagher. Because while she loved her school, to the others it was only a fortress. They explained how I'd accepted the assignment to protect the Princess' cousin, Daaniya alias Dayna, more than ready to become Lauren and go to Georgetown University. To become one of the many undercover agents protecting the royal bloodline of Caspia. Ready to stop something which could lead to a world war.
After an entire hour of explaining our covers to her, the first thing she asked, turning to Zach, was: "So you're not really Russian?"
"No, I'm afraid not," he said, speaking in his own American accent. His face look troubled and his hand kept fiddling with his hoodie strings and then his phone. I don't think I'd ever seen him this nervous before. I sent him a look which he waved off by shaking his head.
"And your name is Zach?" Dayna asked and he nodded, turning his attention back to her. We kept his last name to ourselves, for now, fearing that Dayna would probably lose her mind completely if she found out he was a Circle member descendent. There was only so much we could spring on her at once. She'd obviously known she was under watch, but I guess when you find out that a majority of your friend circle are just your bodyguards, then it can be a shocker. She'd befriended us and told us things about herself (minus her real name), assuming we were one of the few people who'd like her without knowing the entire story. She hadn't known we all had elaborate folders which we'd memorized before even officially meeting her.
"And you're the Cammie Morgan that Amy keeps talking about," she said, turning to me.
"So, you're not really my friend or my roommate. None of you are," she said, looking at both Zach, and Grant who'd been called in.
"Just because my name isn't Lauren doesn't mean I'm not your friend, Dayna," I said.
"But you're still there to protect me. To keep me safe," she said, looking down. Once more, she wasn't told that Zach and Grant were assigned to me. That was need to know.
"Miss Daaniya - " Townsend started but she shook her head.
"My name is Dayna. And I don't see why these people want anything to do with me. I'm not even the Princess. I'm Amy's cousin. I don't even have enough royal blood for it to really count - not as a monarch, anyway."
"Dayna," I said, reaching for her hand. After a moment's thought, she took it.
"You are important," I continued. "You're a member of the royal family. One of the few left. You lost your uncle, and almost lost your cousin, to a bunch of sick terrorists. These people have taken a hit and they're more dangerous now than ever when they're wounded."
"Because they'll get sloppy?"
"Because they don't care who they'll hurt in the process."
She sat silently, looking down at her lap. Then she took a deep breath and looked at me again.
"Thank you."
"For what?" I asked, stunned.
"You took a bullet for her. You took more than one bullet for her. If there's anybody I trust with my life, it's you. I don't care if I have to pretend to not know. You can't leave me alone."
"I'm off the case, Dayna," I reminded her, swallowing thickly. Her bright eyes were too much like Amy's. Too innocent, too childlike. When she begged, I felt my heart break.
"I'll still be with you at college. But I can't live with you anymore."
"Why not?" she demanded. "If you're being replaced anyway, then why does it matter where you live?"
"Because, Ms. Lawson," my mother said, "you need a working agent with you in your residence hall. And we can't move your other roommates because replacing someone who already knows is far less messy."
"You're afraid of drawing attention! You can give us another roommate. We have a free single room in our apartment – they're made for up to five people at Henle. Just please don't make Laur – Cammie leave. Please."
"It'll be a lot easier than coming up with a story for Cammie's departure," Grant spoke up. I nodded along with him, turning to Zach to plead my case, as well. But he wasn't saying a single word. I looked away.
"We'll see what we can do," my mother said, sharing a glance with Townsend. I knew that look. It was the defeated look of someone who'd grown up around me. The look of someone who was willing to do anything to not back me into a corner and force me to do something stupid. I'd have been angry for the lack of trust which everyone seemed to have; but then I remembered that I'd given them all reason to believe I was a ticking bomb.
I'm sure if I was just Lauren and Daaniya was just Dayna, we'd be squealing at the prospect of not being separated. But when I turned to look at her, she had a sad, faraway look in her eyes. It spoke more than any of the extensive conversations which had just taken place.
"Nothing's going to be the same now, is it?" she asked me.
I turned to look at Zach, who was staring at me. His dark eyes weren't shining. They were vacant.
"No, Dayna. I'm afraid not."