Arriving back at the Gallagher Academy felt less like a homecoming and more like the last day of summer vacation at a normal high school, the kind no one wants to go to. I had less than a month before I was free of this place. My former home that now felt like a mausoleum.

Aunt Abby was the first to greet me as I stepped out of the car. She rushed to hug me, but stopped at the sight of my many wounds. "I want to be angry at you, Squirt, for that stupid stunt you pulled, but looking at you now, I think you learned your lesson."

"I'll say," I heard Bex from behind her. "You look like hell."

Sling or no sling, I pulled them both into a hug. "It's good to see you guys again."

"Hey, don't forget about us!" Liz piped up as she scampered up with Macey in tow.

I smiled, "How could I?"

"You're going to tell us what happened right?" Macey prodded.

Abby cleared her throat, "It's classified, Macey. Of course she will not."

I shrugged, "Classified. Right."

"Now, you'll have plenty of time to catch up on non-classified matters, but for now, Squirt, I need you to come with me," Abby started towards the mansion, and I followed close behind, not wanting to push my luck. She walked towards my mother's office, or rather, the headmistress' office. It had been what felt like both ages and only seconds ago since my mother last walked these halls.

When we walked into the office, I saw none other than Joe Solomon sitting at the old desk. He stood up and smiled, "Looks like you've made it back in mostly one piece."

"Thanks to you, I suppose," I smiled.

"Just finally fulfilling a long overdue promise," he shrugged. Abby bowed out, and Mr. Solomon continued, "Sit, please."

"So, what's up with the office and everything?"

"Well, as you might know, Professor Buckingham has intentions to retire at the end of the school year. Therefore, the trustees began their search for a new headmaster for the Academy," he explained.

"Who's the lucky person?"

"Well, I was asked," he admitted. "If I have your blessing."

"My blessing?" I stumbled.

He fumbled with a pen in his hands, "Your mother meant a great deal to me. I just want to make sure this is okay with you."

"Of course," I blurted. "I can't think of anyone better!"

He shifted his weight in his chair, clearly this was something that even the seasoned ace operative in front of me would need time to adjust to. He looked up again, "So, Cammie, I heard you met Frank Price."

"Yes, in a manner of speaking," I said.

"If you don't mind me asking, what did he want?" He continued, "it's just not at all typical for someone like him to want to meet with a Gallagher Academy student."

"He wanted to know where the actual flash drive was," I tested Mr. Solomon's reaction to that. He didn't flinch. Either he was a trained operative, he didn't know what I was talking about, or, well, both. "And he offered me a job."

"Did you accept?"

"No," I admitted. "But he made me agree to think on it."

Mr. Solomon pressed, "You're still hesitant as before?"

I nodded, "I feel like I'd be letting my parents down if I don't take the job, but I just don't know that I can do it."

"Listen, Cammie," he said, "your parents would be immensely proud if you followed in their footsteps and became a spy just like them. However, they'd be even more proud if you made this decision on your own, and if you don't want to after all, they'd be proud of you for that as well."

A tear started to roll down my cheek. "Mr. Solomon, what do you think I should do?"

"Sleep on it, mull it over for a few weeks," he said. "I can't give you the answer. It's entirely up to you."

"Oh, one last thing, is Catherine... dead?"

Mr. Solomon nodded. That was all I needed.

On my way back to my room, I saw Zach sitting on a bench waiting for me. "Hi, Gallagher Girl."

"Hey," was all I could muster.

"You should really stop with all these injuries," he said looking at my sling.

I sighed, "Yeah, well, this guy I know keeps helping me get into dangerous situations."

He shrugged, "Sounds like a good guy."

"Zach," my voice croaked, "thank you."

"No," he said, "thank you. For…"

I knew he was talking about Catherine, but I didn't want to make him have to say it, so I finished, "It wasn't really me."

He nodded, "Thanks anyways. And I'm so sorry." He ran his hand along my shoulder, being careful not to disturb the bullet wound.

"Don't be," I shook my head. "I just wish I knew what happened to that flash drive we got from the safe. Not even the CIA seems to have it. They keep asking me for it."

Zach smiled, "Well, that's something I can help you with."

He pulled out a worn, grey flash drive from his pocket. I held it in my fingers and said, "But, how?"

"The switch was a clever trick," he said. "I knew the real one would be in your pocket, so I grabbed it on the way to the hospital. You deserve the closure."

"Thank you, Zach. I mean, really, thank you," I breathed. "Have you looked at what's on it?"

He grinned, "Everyone. All their agents. Everything."

It's not often that as a spy you get your hands on such valuable intel and absolute control over what to do with it. Only Zach and I knew that I had it (okay, the CIA and pretty much everyone else suspected that I had it, but they didn't know for certain) which meant we were completely free to decided on our own.

I didn't sleep a wink as I tossed and turned thinking of the flash drive I now wore around my neck on a chain. As I walked with Bex to breakfast the next morning, nearly everyone in the school stopped and stared as I walked by. I joked to Bex, "That's why they call me the Chameleon, right?"

We sat down in the dining hall next to Macey, Liz, and Zach. It felt weird to be sitting at the same spot at the same table as though I were a bright-eyed eighth grader again. When I looked up at the main podium, I have expected to see my mom smiling back at me, telling me that spy school was going to be the best years of my life.

"So, Cammie," I expected no less than a Tina question as I began to eat my waffles. When no one else is willing to ask the tough questions, you can count on Tina. "I hear you killed about fifty agents with a handgun as you went on a revenge spree in Paris."

"No," I muttered. "I don't think that's quite it."

I looked up at the teacher's table. I couldn't help but wonder who would be taking over for Mr. Solomon teaching CoveOps next year. Aunt Abby had returned to work for the CIA. It was hard to tell if her career was jeopardized at all by the operation, but at least she was able to go back.

"Cameron Morgan," Professor Buckingham's stern voice bellowed towards me, "a word please."

"See you guys in class," I muttered to my friends as I hopped up to follow Buckingham out of the hall.

"Obviously there is a lot to address with your," she searched for the correct word, "situation. You have less than a month before graduation and quite a bit of work missed. Considering the circumstances, we can make an exception on the final examinations that you missed."

"Thank you," I replied.

She sighed, "With your injuries, I can only recommend bed rest for at least a week."

I shook my head, "You know I won't."

"Yes, well, I can try, can't I?" She cooed matronly. "Now, you'll have to make arrangements with each of your teachers regarding missed work in order to assure you graduate on time, but other than that, welcome back. Please, Cameron, remain here until you graduate this time, yes?"

I nodded. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, professor."