The Replaced

I doubted Griffin had batted a single lash this time; all she’d had to do was give him access to a bunch of computers and hook him up to a satellite feed. He’d have been eating out of her hand in ten seconds flat.

Damn her!

Jett indicated his trusty laptop, which was linked to their network. “I don’t know if anyone told you, but we may have something.”

I was all ears. “Something like what?”

Jett plopped down in the rolling chair and cast me an expectant look. “I don’t want to get your hopes up or anything, but we may have gotten another message from someone claiming to be your father.” His brow lowered as he rubbed his palms over the tops of his knees. “Don’t get too excited, but . . . I think it might be legit.”

My eyes widened, and for just a second, just a teeny, tiny second, I was able to forget all about Tyler and Griffin, and whatever reasons she had for keeping us apart while we were here. “My dad? You think it might be him . . . for real . . . ?” I didn’t know if I could allow myself to believe it might be true.

Jett stopped me before hope could take root. “We can’t be sure yet. I’m just saying we can’t rule it out either. We’ve done IP traces and we’ve definitely ruled out the Tacoma facility. But if it is him, he’s being extra careful. Whoever it is, he’s taking as many precautions as we are.”

“Then let me talk to him,” I gushed, knowing I could figure it out if they gave me the chance. “I’ll ask him things only he’d know.”

I stepped toward Jett, but Griffin’s fingers dug into my shoulder. “We can’t do that. Not just yet,” she said. “Not until we make sure whoever he is, he isn’t running a trace. We can’t be too careful. When mistakes are made, people die.”

I wrenched out of her grip, not caring that she had a point. “So, how long will that be?” I asked, directing my question to Jett instead of Griffin because I was so over her.

He just shrugged. “Could be a coupla hours, could be a coupla days. Could turn out to be a hoax altogether. I just thought you should know.” When he met my gaze, he silently told me he didn’t think it was the latter, and I nodded back, thanking him for that.

“What about the files?” Willow finally spoke up. “Tell them where you are with those.”

“We’re definitely in,” Jett explained, eager now, and Simon stepped closer to peer over Jett’s shoulder.

“Find anything interesting so far?”

“Not yet,” Jett answered, glancing back at him. “Even with the encryption codes, all of their internal files are password protected, so every time we break one code, we have to break another. It’s slow going, but we’re piecing it all together a little at a time. Soon, though.”

Soon. That sounded a heckuva lot faster than when I’d know about my dad.

There was a thump at the door, and when it opened, Nyla materialized, and right on her heels was Tyler. Butterflies swarmed my stomach.

I became that girl, the one who was worried about how she looked and whether her breath was bad, and I had this sudden urge to check to see if I had a booger hanging out of my nose and I so totally hoped I didn’t because I was sure I would absolutely die of sheer embarrassment if I did. If that was his second first impression of me after we’d just re-met each other.

I glanced at Griffin, who looked downright stunning. How in the heck had she found the time to apply lip gloss when she had an entire camp to run?

I smoothed my hand over my hair, wishing I at least had some other style besides finger comb and rubber band. I had to remind myself that even if he didn’t remember it, this was the boy who’d given up everything to help me, and we’d seen each other in far worse circumstances.

“Hey,” Tyler said, and when he smiled, I forgot all about my hair and boogers, and almost even about my dad.

“Hey,” I said back.

And then I almost died anyway when I realized he wasn’t talking to me at all, but to Griffin, and all of a sudden I was back in junior high all over again as I had one of those awkward moments in the hallway when someone waves to you and you wave back, only you realize a second too late that they were never waving at you at all, but at the person standing behind you all along.

So. Embarrassing.

My cheeks blazed like someone had thrown a gallon of lighter fluid on them, and I lowered my gaze, unable to look at anyone. Humiliation brimmed in my eyes and I had to blink several times to keep them from spilling over, certain my charcoal cheeks would cause the tears to sizzle.

On the other side of me, I felt Simon’s fingertips brush over the back of my hand, but I curled my fingers until all that was left were white-boned knuckles. I didn’t want his pity. I never had.

But Tyler rescued me when he nudged me with his shoulder. “You guys almost done here?” And this time he was most definitely talking to me.

My breath caught as I glanced up again. He grinned at me with his way-too-alluring lips, and the butterflies beat rather than fluttered like a flock of spastic birds in the pit of my stomach. “I am.”

“You wanna get out of here? Maybe go someplace we can catch up?” He looked to Griffin for approval and the butterflies died a horrific death. I didn’t want him to seek her approval. I wanted it to be just us, him and me, so we didn’t have to do any of this in front of the rest of them—not her or Simon or Willow, who was giving me the eyebrow version of a thumbs-up. “Do you mind?”