I nodded. “Then Emerson Cole turns up dead, and Dean ends up in an interrogation room with his father.” I leaned back, allowing my head to clunk lightly against the side of the house. “Going into that room, listening to what Daniel Redding had to say, that’s what made Dean shut down. It was like someone had drained his soul from his body. Then Agent Sterling lets him know that we went digging on our own—”

“Which you let slip,” Lia interjected.

“Sterling already knew that I’d snuck out,” I told her. “And besides, I didn’t tell her what we did. I didn’t even tell her you were there. I just told her what we learned.”

“None of which even matters,” Lia cut in, “because every student in that class—not to mention the TA—has an ironclad alibi. And instead of using us, the way they should, the FBI, in all their glorious wisdom, leaves us locked up here, where we can’t do anything to solve the case or to help Dean.” Lia wound a thick strand of jet-black hair around her finger. “And here’s our favorite person now.”

I followed Lia’s gaze. A dark car had pulled into the driveway. Agent Sterling got out.

“Where do you suppose she’s been?” Lia asked me.

Sterling had stopped by the house earlier, just long enough to pick up the students’ files, then she’d left. I’d assumed she’d gone back to meet Briggs, but he wasn’t with her now.

The passenger side of Sterling’s car opened, and the director climbed out. The two of them had the look of people who had just endured a very tense, very silent car ride.

“Think he’s back to see us?” I asked, lowering my voice, even though they were far enough away that I wasn’t sure I needed to.

Lia clapped a hand over my mouth and pulled me back so that we were partially obscured from view. Her eyes narrowed. I nodded, to show that I understood, and a moment later, I discovered why Lia was so fond of the roof.

The acoustics were excellent.

“You’re welcome to borrow the car to see yourself home,” Agent Sterling said. She was using her interrogator’s voice, implacable and even-keeled.

“I asked you to drive me here,” the director returned. His voice was baritone, just as unruffled as hers. “I’d like to talk to the boy.”

“You don’t need to talk to Dean.”

“I think you’re forgetting which one of us is the director here, Agent.”

“And I think you’re forgetting that after the Locke debacle, I wasn’t the only one asking questions.” She paused, waiting for those words to hit their target. “I have contacts at National Intelligence. People in Washington are talking. What do you think would happen if it got out that the FBI was consulting with Redding’s teenage son on this case?”

“This is the one case for which exposure isn’t a concern.” The director’s tone never changed. “The FBI would be talking to the boy on this case whether he was working for us or not. If the director of National Intelligence asks—and he won’t—it would be easy enough to explain. Redding’s son was there the first time around. He knows the ins and outs of Redding’s psyche better than anyone—including you.”

“I agreed to come here and evaluate this program because you said that reporting the Naturals program to Washington would be a mistake.” A tiny hint of emotion crept into Agent Sterling’s voice, though whether it was frustration or something else, I couldn’t tell. “You told me that I needed to see it myself to understand exactly what I would be shutting down.”

I’d wondered why the director would send his daughter here, knowing she thought this program was a mistake, and now I knew.

“You listened to me then,” the director countered calmly. “You could have filed that report, and you didn’t.”

“Like you left me any choice!”

“I did nothing but tell you the truth.” The director looked down at his watch, as if to mark exactly how much time he was wasting on this conversation. “This program is the only thing keeping that boy from the edge. You think he’d fare better in foster care? Or maybe you’d like me to send Lia Zhang back onto the streets? She’d get caught again eventually, and this time, I guarantee you she’d end up getting tried as an adult.”

I felt Lia stiffen beside me.

“You wanted me to come here,” Sterling said, gritting out the words. “I came here. But when I did, you promised that you would listen to my recommendations.”

“If you were being reasonable, I would listen. But keeping Dean Redding away from this case isn’t reasonable.” The director gave her a moment to reply to that, and when she didn’t, he continued. “You can stand there and tell me how wrong this program is, but inside, you want to shut down this killer just as badly as I do. It’s everything you can do not to use the Naturals to do it, and sooner or later, you’ll forget all about your principles. You’ll be the one telling me we need to cross that line.”

I expected Sterling to tell him he was wrong. She didn’t. “Of course I want to use them!” she shot back. “But this isn’t about me. Or you. Or the Bureau. This is about the five teenagers who live in that house. Five actual people whose only protection is rules that you put in place and then break, again and again. You’re the one who let Cassie Hobbes work on the Locke case. You’re the one who insisted we bring Dean to talk to Redding. You’re making rules and breaking them, sending mixed messages—”

“That’s not what this is about,” the director broke in. Unlike his daughter’s voice, his remained completely impassive. “You’re not upset about whatever messages you think I’m sending. Five years later, you’re still upset that I sided with your husband on this program instead of with you.”

“Ex-husband.”

“You left him. You left the FBI.”

“Go ahead and say it, Dad. I left you.”

“Do you know what kind of position that put me in, Veronica? How am I supposed to command the loyalty of the entire Bureau when my own daughter couldn’t be bothered to stick around? After the incident with the Hawkins girl on the Nightshade case, morale was low. We needed to present a united front.”

Agent Sterling turned her back on her father, and when she turned back around, the words shot out of her like bullets from a gun. “Her name was Scarlett, and it wasn’t an incident. A psychopath snuck into our labs and murdered one of our people. Tanner and I both had something to prove—” She cut herself off, breathing in raggedly. “I left the Bureau because I didn’t belong there.”




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