Maddie had to think about it for a while before she was truly certain that they'd been followed around Roseville.

Maddie had first caught sight of the dark-haired woman rounding a corner near the pharmacy, as if intentionally trying to stay out sight. She'd noticed her again over Logan's shoulder, staring into the display window of the hardware store across the street, watching their reflection. And when Maddie and Logan were handed an ice cream at the soda fountain, she stepped into the store to get one for herself.

Maddie knew the adage as well as anyone else. Once is a stranger. Twice is a coincidence. Three times is a tail. Even in a town the size of Roseville.

Maddie breathed a sigh of relief as the doors of the van slammed closed behind the final sophomore.

Maddie expected to be interrogated again, but Abigail Cameron was silent and in good spirits as she collected everyone's wigs and comms units. Maddie tried to catch her eye, but Abby deftly avoided looking at Maddie during the entire drive back to Gallagher.

Abby ushered all of the sophomores back through the doors and into the entrance hall of the Gallagher Academy.

"Great job today, ladies," Abby smiled, but Maddie didn't buy it, and she got the distinct impression none of the other girls did either. "Off to your homework now."

The girls scattered, confused looks on their faces, but Maddie stayed where she was until she heard the words she'd been expecting.

"Come with me, Ms. Manchester."

Maddie and Logan stepped forward to follow Abby, but she stopped them.

"Mr. Mitchell," she said tiredly. "I think you've done enough tagging along for one day. If you'd return to your room and stay there, I'd be very appreciative."

Maddie fixed Logan with her most intimidating stare, and he quietly mumbled "Of course, Agent Cameron," and set off for the faculty hall.

Maddie followed Agent Cameron into the Headmistress' office, and settled into a chair in front of Headmistress Morgan, Joe Solomon, and a tall, handsome, broad-shouldered man in his mid-forties, with a very intimidating, mildly annoyed expression. Honestly, with four adults and Maddie crammed into the small office, it felt an awful lot like a clown car.

"Abby," Headmistress Morgan said sternly. "It's the first field assignment of the semester. I think this is a new record, even for you."

Joe Solomon let out a huff. "If only Agent Cameron possessed a subtle, covert bone in her entire body..."

"You are unbelievable, you know," Abby snapped. "I cover your field lessons because you would endanger our students by showing your face outside the mansion . . ."

"And yet you endanger them anyway." Joe Solomon chimed in.

The man with the shoulders cleared his throat.

"Abigail," he said, annoyed. "I didn't come all the way over from Langley to listen to you argue with your brother-in-law, so if you're not going to debrief Ms. Manchester, I really must be on my way."

Abby rolled her eyes dramatically, making it abundantly clear the relationship rumors were true. No one else would have the nerve to mock the acting CIA Director. Then she turned to Maddie.

"Maddie," she said gently. "Can you tell us what happened out there?"

Maddie explained, and, like a good agent, she shared every detail of the last two hours, and she didn't leave anything out. Not even the details she really, really wanted to leave out. But the entire sophomore class had seen Logan kiss her, so it wasn't like that news wouldn't hit the intranet rumor mill in approximately thirty seconds anyway.

If Headmistress Morgan was concerned about Maddie kissing the Gallagher Academy's only male student in the middle of a class training exercise, she didn't show it. Instead, she remained stone-faced and nodded along in mild interest, as if she had seen all of this before.

Edward Townsend sighed when Maddie finished her retelling of the events in Roseville.

"Can you draw?" He asked, and it took Maddie a moment to realize Agent Townsend wanted Maddie to sketch the woman who had tailed them around Roseville. Maddie nodded.

Fortunately, Maddie had had a lot of free time in Alaska for otherwise useless 17th century hobbies, like drawing. She accepted a piece of regular paper and a pencil, and went to work.

Edward Townsend studied her finished sketch silently. He nodded, and passed the drawing around the table. The other adults reviewed the sketch as well, and glances were shared between the adults, but no one spoke.

Maddie wasn't the kind of girl who let her questions remain unanswered though. "Do you know who she is?"

Agent Townsend studied Maddie for a moment, curiously.

"Maybe," he said finally.

"Maybe is a pretty good start, kiddo," Headmistress Morgan chimed in. But there was something in her voice Maddie didn't like. It sounded a lot like pity. It sounded a lot like Headmistress Morgan thought Maddie had overreacted. "Great work today."

She looked around at her colleagues, then said firmly, "Well, I think that's enough of that."

Though arguably the least intimidating person in the room at face value, even three professional operatives knew a "mom voice" when they heard one.

"Maddie, dear," she continued. "You'll stay a moment longer please."

Three professional spies left the room, leaving Maddie alone with the scariest one of all. The international spy / mom who knew about everything that happened inside the walls of her school.

"How are you liking Gallagher, Maddie?" She asked casually.

Maddie bit back a laugh. "You know," she said. "When I was in Alaska, all I wanted was noise. All I wanted was to be around other young women. People I had something in common with. It's just funny that there was this whole other world I could have belonged to that I never even knew about."

"You do belong here, Maddie," Headmistress Morgan responded. "Between your coursework and your quick thinking in the field this morning, you've certainly proven that."

"Thank you," Maddie said, apprehensively. Because she was pretty sure Headmistress Morgan wasn't finished.

"So maybe you'd like to tell me why you're having such a hard time fitting in."

Maddie stared at her, wondering what Headmistress Morgan would believe. It certainly wasn't the emphatic "I'm fine," that came out of Maddie's mouth.

Headmistress Morgan sighed.

"Madeleine," she said, and Maddie may not have ever had a mom before, but even she knew that an adult using your full name was basically never good. "Do you think I don't know everything that goes on inside these walls?"

Maddie shook her head and mumbled a "no ma'am," but the Headmistress continued.

"Then maybe you want to tell me why you never sleep in your own bed? Or why you continue to keep a hatchet tucked in your boot in violation of the "no outside weapons" policy. Or why I never see you spending time with anyone except Mr. Mitchell and Ms. DiAngelo."

Maddie was silent. Headmistress Morgan had her pegged, and she knew it. There was nothing to say.

The Headmistress studied Maddie for a few moments longer, as if she wasn't sure whether to put on her mom hat or her spy hat or her professor hat. Eventually, it seemed, she decided on a combination of the three.

"Maddie," she said gently. "Many of the young women who've passed through the Gallagher Academy in the last 150 years have been victims of trauma. What happened in Alaska would have been traumatic for anyone."

"As I told you," Maddie said quietly, "I'm fine."

"Frankly," Rachel Morgan said, more sternly this time, "I don't believe you. We're having this discussion because the Gallagher Academy has resources that could help you process what happened."

"I killed a terrorist," Maddie said calmly. "And I rescued the President's son. Trust me, I've had plenty of time to process."

Rachel Morgan continued to study Maddie, but frankly, Maddie was getting pretty tired of being studied by absolutely every adult she encountered.

"If that's all, may I be excused?"

The headmistress stared at her a moment longer, then nodded. Maddie bolted from her seat and left the tiny office as quickly as she possibly could. She turned the corner of the hallway, and fell against the wall. Her hands smacked the stones in frustration, and she felt herself sliding down the wall toward the floor. She wanted so badly to scream. A scream loud enough to echo through three stories of stone hallways. But instead she pressed her forehead against her knees and breathed deeply, until she was sure that the tears that threatened to fall would stay safely contained in her eyelids.