Quentin shakes his head. “Blame Dr. Simons,” he says, motioning toward the back. “It’s another security measure, something about aerial surveillance. But don’t worry, we can still find Jasper. Stuart is not good for much, but he can track anything or anyone. I’ll be right back.”
As Quentin heads toward the door, I glance over at Cassie, bracing for her to be glaring at me. Instead, she’s just staring in the general direction of where Quentin went. But not really at him.
“I know you and Jasper are in a fight, but I was just worried that—”
“Never mind. It’s fine,” she says once Quentin has disappeared out the door. “I get it.” Finally, she looks in my direction, nods some more, like she might actually agree with me now. “Really, it’s okay.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket then. My dad, it must be. Please be okay. That’s my first thought as I pull it out. My second? You asshole. Sure enough, it’s my dad’s number again at the top of my screen.
I think there might be somebody following me. I’ve had to reroute again. I’ll still come as soon as I can. But tell Dr. Simons it may be too late. They’re already on their way.
“Your dad?” Cassie asks, stepping closer and reading over my shoulder.
I nod as I write back, Are you okay?
And then we wait, and wait. But there’s no response.
“He’s still coming, though, right?” Cassie steps even closer. Like she’s going to grab my phone from me. “You have to tell him. He needs to come.”
“I’m sure he knows—”
“Is everything okay?” It’s Dr. Simons.
I hold up my phone. “My dad said to tell you ‘they’re already on their way.’” I say it with an edge. I can’t help it. “Which doesn’t sound so awesome to me.”
Dr. Simons takes a deep breath and pushes the air out in a long stream. “It’s not ideal, no,” he says with calm efficiency. “But we did anticipate this as a possibility. We have a plan in place. I’d been hoping it wouldn’t be necessary to put it into motion, but we are thoroughly prepared to.”
Suddenly, Cassie drops herself down hard onto one of the long benches. Her shoulders are hunched, head hanging forward.
“Cassie, are you all right?” I rush over to her.
Without saying a word, she leans over and grabs hold of me, pulling me down onto the bench next to her and burying her face in my neck.
“It’s going to be okay,” I say, stroking her head. I don’t know what else to do. “We have all these people to help us. And my dad is going to be here soon. We’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”
“I’m scared,” she whispers. “Really, really scared.”
And she’d be crazy not to be. Who knows what North Point will do if they get their hands on her? What they’ll do to any of us?
“Just make sure your dad comes now, okay? Promise me,” she says before finally letting me go.
“I will. I promise,” I say, even though he basically just told me he wasn’t coming anytime soon.
Cassie pulls back and wipes at her tear-slicked face. Then she stares at the ground for a minute like she’s considering something. Finally, she starts nodding. I’m afraid to ask what she’s decided. “I’ll be right back.” She motions to her face. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Will she be okay?” Dr. Simons asks once Cassie is crossing the room away from us.
“I hope so,” I say. “She wasn’t exactly in the best place before this happened. You should have waited until I was around to tell her about the Outlier thing.”
“Oh, yes, of course I should have,” Dr. Simons says. But almost too quickly, like he doesn’t feel that sorry at all. “I think I was hoping to restore transparency to this situation. There is so much still to make sense of, so many factors and factions at play.”
“Factions? What does that mean?” Because it sounds like a war already in progress. Though I don’t know why I am surprised that there would be more to the story than they’ve told me so far. “I thought there was one company.”
“North Point is certainly the immediate concern,” he says. “But there are other elements at play.”
“What ‘elements’?” My voice is rising. I can’t help it.
“Wylie, it is imperative that you stay calm,” Dr. Simons says, and like I’ve totally lost it. Have I? When I look around, I feel like everyone has stopped what they’re doing—Adam and Fiona, Beatrice and Gladys—all have turned to look at me. Could I have been screaming my head off and not even realized it? “As I said before, we know that the government is also aware of and interested in your father’s research.”
“The government?” I almost laugh. Did Dr. Simons say that before? It feels like news to me, but who knows.
And already the mention of the government has rung a different kind of bell.
It was a month after the funeral and I was still in no shape to be answering the door. I wouldn’t have, except the man on the stoop saw me look out the window. And then he flashed a badge. Department of Homeland Security. He was hugely tall, his chest puffed out like a steel drum in his cheap gray suit, and his plain gold-rimmed glasses didn’t fit him right.