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It wasn't until hours later, as we were walking along a road in the middle of nowhere after taking a greyhound bus out of Iowa, that I really thought about the conversation I'd overheard. I know that makes me sound like a bad spy, but we were so focused on getting away that we didn't have time to think about anything else. Not where we were going, or what had been said, or what was in the folder I'd stolen. At least I didn't.
But as we walked along the shoulder of the empty road in the dim light of the setting sun, I thought for the first time. And then I regretted it. I thought about the way the man had spoken about the Circle. You can't escape us, Zach. Didn't Matthew Morgan and Joe Solomon teach you that? Once a member of the Circle, always a member of the Circle.
When I thought about it, I realized his words meant a lot of things, all of which were bad. First, and surprisingly least alarming, my father had been a member of the Circle with Joe Solomon. God knew how long he was with them before he and Mr. Solomon decided to take them down. I tried not to think about that.
But there was something else. Agents who changed sides were hunted down and killed, that much was obvious. But no one had come to hunt down Zach yet. And no one was allowed to kill him that night in the caves, even though he'd obviously been turned. Joe Solomon had been tortured for information, used one last time to help the Circle. Which left me wondering what their plan was for Zach. Was the Circle plotting to use him one last time? Against me?
And that brought me back to the question of why they wanted me in the first place. They needed information, something they couldn't get without me. And then I wondered. What if my father hadn't given them the information they wanted before he died? And what if they thought he'd passed that information on to me?
"Zach," I started, as soon as it hit me. "They don't want me. They want my father."
He stopped so suddenly that I nearly ran into him, and when he turned to face me, his eyes were furious. But in a way that told me I was right.
"He and Mr. Solomon were both Circle agents who changed sides. They tried to get the information out of my father, but he wouldn't tell them, would he? So they killed him. And whatever it is they're looking for, they think I have it."
His gaze held mine for a moment too long, and then his fingertips slowly traced down my cheek, playing with an escaped strand of hair.
"Oh my God," he muttered, closing his eyes and pulling away as though he had been burned.
"What?" He didn't answer, but he did turn and walk farther away from the road. Then he sat down on a rock and buried his head in his hands. I sat down next to him. "What, Zach?" I tried to reach for his hand, but he moved it away. So I stared at him until he slowly raised his eyes to meet mine.
"She killed him," he whispered, his voice shaky in a way I'd never heard before.
"I thought we knew that," I said, trying to figure out why the fact that the Circle killed my father was news.
"I mean personally." His voice cracked as he spoke, and a piece of my heart almost cracked as I listened. "I remember hearing her talk about it."
I tried to be unemotional, but I couldn't. After all, I'd just learned that my (sort of) boyfriend's mother killed my dad. I tried to be angry at Zach, but I couldn't. This was the boy (man?) who'd risked his life for me on numerous occasions. He couldn't help what his mother was. So I stayed silent, waiting for his story.
"It was late one night when I was supposed to be asleep, five or six years ago, long after my own father disappeared. I could hear her talking in the other room, but I couldn't determine who owned the other voice. She said, "He's dead," and the other man asked if she had the information. She told him she didn't and he was angry. And then she said she thought he might have given it to someone else, his daughter perhaps. Someone no one would think to go after.
And then she said, "And what about Joe?" and the man told her the right time would come. He said, "Joe will serve his purpose the way Alex served his. And the way Matthew was supposed to." And then he said, "Watch the girl. She's no threat now, but as she grows she'll become more and more dangerous to us. And someday she'll finish Matthew's job.""
"I'm sorry Cam," he said, shaking his head desperately. "I tried to block out what I heard her say for a long time. I didn't realize how useful it could be until about a year ago. I should have known earlier."
"Zach," I said quietly, waiting until he met my eyes to continue. "I don't blame you at all for what happened. It's what we do now that matters. Mr. Solomon would have said the same thing."
I saw Zach swallow hard, then close his eyes and focus.
"What was in the folder, Cam?" he asked. I'd been wondering when he would get to that. I slid it slowly from my drawstring backpack and balanced it on my lap, and we both leaned closer so that we could see more clearly in the fading light. And I felt Zach's arm slide around my waste.
I opened the folder and my breath caught as I thumbed through the glossy sheets. Full page, sharp, detailed, surveillance photos. The first was of my father and Mr. Solomon shaking hands, an unoriginal but well played brush pass. The next was Mr. Solomon, sitting on a bench. Then one of my father sitting on the same bench.
Zach stayed still until I reached the final photograph, one of my father with another man, a man I didn't recognize. And then he sucked in his breath and his arm tightened around my waste.
"Who is that?" I asked, barely moving my lips. But I wasn't surprised when he told me. In fact, I almost knew what he was going to say before the words slipped from his barely parted lips.
"Alexander Goode," he breathed. "Cam, that's my father."
