wasn’t sure if the pounding came from the inside or outside of my skull. Cracking my eyes open a hair, I groaned as rays of burning light went right past the retinas and straight into my brain.

“It’s about time,” Hayden said from across the room. She yanked on a pair of jeans. “It’s almost noon.”

I glared at her. “For the love of Allah, unless you’re planning to kill me and end my misery, can you stop talking? Please?”

She laughed. “It’s not my fault you can’t handle your liquor.”

I slowly assumed a sitting position, but had to grab my head to keep it from rolling off my shoulders.

“Aspirin and water.” She zipped up her pants before sitting down to pull on boots. “Some people say you should eat greasy food or drink raw eggs, but that’s just bullshit.”

I watched her through squinted eyelids. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe you’re not such a total loser after all.”

“Gee, thanks.” And all it took was blowing off my moral code, risking assault charges, and braving a really massive hangover to prove it. Of course, maybe she hadn’t yet heard about Sam walking me out of the party last night. I could only hope he’d had the good sense to dash right back.

Once she cleared out, I took her advice. After popping four aspirin, I chugged a bottle of water and collapsed back in bed. An hour later, I managed to shuffle down the hall to the common room. The place was a ghost town. Most likely I wasn’t the only senior in a world of hurt. I scrounged up a bagel and a banana before returning to my room to hibernate.

It was dark when I woke again. Snapping on my bedside lamp, I was pissed an entire day of my life had been shot to hell. And I was alone. How much did I suck as a secret agent? My mark was nowhere to be found, and I’d nearly poisoned myself.

A quick check of the clock told me Benson would just be waking up in Karachi to hit the gym. Without getting out of bed, I grabbed my laptop for a little love and maybe a pep talk.

“Darlin’ girl!” He paused to take a closer look at the image on his screen. “Why do you look like road kill?”

“Don’t ask,” I groaned. “I’m in an adjustment period, okay?”

He didn’t look convinced. “If you say so. How was the first week?”

I sighed. “Harder than I thought it would be, but not for the reasons you’d think.”

“Let’s start at the beginning. Did you make friends with your target?”

I let my head plop back on the pillow. “I don’t know. I think I’m making progress, but her best friend’s up to something, and the guy she likes…” I trailed off, unsure of what I felt, let alone trying to explain it to Benson.

“Riley.” The playfulness was gone. “You have only one task, and that is to stay close to the subject. You must do whatever is necessary to gain her confidence, as long as it doesn’t go against your principles. Are we clear?”

Spoken like a lifelong soldier.

I stared at the ceiling, giving Benson a nice view of my chin. “But there’s this guy…”

He muttered a four-letter under his breath. I popped back up, but regretted it instantly when my brain sloshed around inside my skull. Probably time for another shot of aspirin.

“The mission comes first,” he said simply.

“It’s not like he’s her boyfriend. I mean, he’s her ex, but I think I like him, but I don’t know if he likes me…” I stopped, noticing his complete lack of sympathy. “I thought you of all people would understand.”

He took a swig from his coffee cup. “It’s not that I don’t understand, but you can’t let personal feelings interfere with your mission. You run the risk of putting both of your lives in danger.”

I grumbled in frustration. “I’ve practically lived in a freaking convent my entire life, and when I finally meet someone worth talking to, I have to back off because Veruca Salt wouldn’t like it.”

He looked confused. “I thought her name was something-Frasier.”

“It is!” I shifted gears. “Never mind. Let’s talk about your love life. Your ex is quite a piece of work.” I told him about my initial meeting with Major Taylor, and the installation of the tracking software. The tale of my second encounter with her—and the reason for it—could wait.

“Doesn’t sound like she’s mellowed much,” he said fondly. “So where is your Veruca Salt now?”

I grabbed my phone and pulled up the app. My face transformed into a pout when I realized she was in the upper boys’ dorm. “Probably in pursuit of Mr. Hottie as we speak.”

We spoke a few more minutes. He told me how quiet it had been at the embassy, and that I should call back later tonight to check in with my dad. “You’d think you were living on the moon with the way he mopes about.” That was a huge exaggeration, I was sure, but it was good to be missed.

“Oh, one more thing,” I said as we were saying our goodbyes. “I’m not positive, but someone may have broken into our room last night.”

He stiffened. “And you waited this long to tell me? Have you swept for cameras or bugs? What about your computer for malware?”

“No,” I admitted. It was the most basic of directives.

“Do it now. Do you have a bug sweeper?”

“Sure, I packed it along with my rocket launcher.”

“Sarcasm is the refuge of a simple mind,” he admonished. “Use your cell phone like I showed you, but expect a package from me this week. It’s time to identify your friends… and eliminate your enemies.”

“You’re right,” I said, properly chastised.

He rang off almost immediately so I could commence my search.

Stars shot through my field of vision as I struggled to my feet. When I could move without passing out, I called the tech support line for my old brand of phone. The debugging hack required a phone call to be put on indefinite hold, and they were masters at that. When an automated voice said my call was forty-third in line for a customer representative, I put the call on speaker and slowly walked around the room, waving the phone as I went. When I neared my nightstand, the clicking noises bleeding through the dead air were unmistakable.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered. The electromagnetic field emitted by many bugs and cameras could often be pinpointed this way. Benson said it wasn’t a perfect system, but it could sometimes do in a pinch. I got down on my knees and found a small listening device taped underneath the nightstand.

The phone’s shrill beeping nearly stopped my heart. It was Karen on call waiting. Quickly attempting to weigh the pros and cons of answering the phone with one hand while holding a bug in the other would have been easier if my brain wasn’t moving in slow motion.

“Hello?” I already regretted my choice.

“Are you alone?” No chitchat for her.

“No.” For all I knew, the entire world could be listening.

“Call me back when you are,” she ordered. “It’s time for a report.”

More homework. Great. “Okay,” I sighed, switching back to the other line.

An extensive search turned up a second bug taped under Hayden’s desk. Marching into the bathroom, I flushed them out of existence.

I flopped down on my bed, exhausted by the effort and freaked out by what might have been overheard, and more importantly, who was behind it. There hadn’t been any cameras, but I sure wouldn’t be walking around naked anytime soon. A check of my laptop revealed no activity during the time of the party, but I made a mental note to ask Benson for a debugging program.

Were the bugs planted last night, or had someone entered our room for another purpose? Who could possibly be interested in the almost nonexistent conversation between Hayden and me? Quinn? Another student? An inside man on campus?

I bolted upright, much to my chagrin, as I realized whoever planted the bugs had overheard my entire conversation with Benson. Not only had someone broken into my room, but whoever had been listening now knew the real reason I had come to Harrington.

I immediately Skyped Benson on my computer. “We’ve got a problem.”

“Bloody hell,” he swore, after hearing what I’d found. “Make sure you let Grace know.”

I could happily go the rest of my life without ever crossing paths with Major Taylor again, but he was right. With a demand to call immediately if anything else weird came up, Benson signed off.

Grabbing my phone to return Karen’s call, I was surprised to find a text from Sam waiting on the screen. I recognized his number from the online student directory. Are u still fine, fine, fine?

I pulled a pillow over my head in embarrassment. Oh God, what else did I say last night? You can’t hold a girl responsible for things she says while under the influence of stupidity, I texted back.

Almost immediately my phone pinged with another text. LMAO.

I’m glad one of us was.

It wasn’t until Sunday morning that I began to feel human again. Waking before Hayden, I quietly pulled on some Lycra leggings and the rest of my running gear. I braided my hair into one thick plait and pulled a knit cap over my ears. Frost hung in the air, but I was so grateful to be out of pain it was a refreshing relief.

Seeing the drone and finding the bugs meant it was time to get busy with a plan of action. Stretching into a runner’s lunge, the first thing to do was to scope out the perimeter. Benson could describe every building, road, or shrub outside any given embassy within twenty-four hours of our arrival.

“Stay aware and stay alive,” he would say. He not only formulated escape plans, he gauged where potential attacks would likely be staged. The river running past Harrington would be judged a weak spot. Approaches on water could be made silently, departures executed swiftly.

Tightening the laces on my trainers, I set out. The only other people on campus up this early were a few fellow joggers. I nodded to one while running past the stables, relieved there wasn’t a single horse in sight.

I continued on toward the river, finding a sandy path carved into the shoreline between the water and the trees. Hitting my stride along the waterway, I noted the location of the dock and boathouse where half a dozen guys in spandex leggings and windbreakers were lowering one of the long, sleek boats into the water.

My thoughts turned to the call I’d had with my so-called Aunt Karen last night. It hadn’t gone well.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me about Rose Winters?” I demanded, my hangover stripping away all of my ingrained civility. “I’m sleeping in a dead girl’s bed!” It was creepier said aloud.

“Because Hayden Frasier’s new roommate wouldn’t have read the girl’s FBI file before starting school, that’s why,” she shot back. “Your reaction to the news had to be genuine.”

A childish urge had made me want to withhold news of the bugs and the drone, but I didn’t. I would show them all I could be trusted with this mission.

The running path veered away from the river and curved just inside the high brick wall fronting the road to Harrington. I followed it to the main gate, where a couple of guards stood watch. Cameras were positioned to capture both incoming and outgoing traffic, but talk about a drop in the bucket. We might as well stick Hayden out in the road with a big shiny bow around her neck for all the good those few cameras would do.

When I finally came to where the wall ended, I turned my back on the road and ran along a loose boundary of trees and shrubs. As I crested the rise overlooking the lacrosse and hockey fields, I spied a herd of deer grazing complacently on the emerald green lawn. In the far distance, a thick stand of dense forest defined the back of the school’s property. The river was the least of the school’s worries. This place was a security nightmare.

“Riley!” Von jogged up, his mop of thick brown hair shoved under a navy blue knit cap. He wore gray sweats and a hoodie partially unzipped to reveal a sweaty T-shirt. He was such a great guy. Maybe I could forget about Sam and learn to like him instead. And maybe I could bring peace to the Middle East, and get everyone to sing kumbaya.

“Where did you go Friday night?” He fell into step just as we passed the dog kennels. Several excited yaps marked our passing. “You disappeared.”

“More like dropped off the earth,” I replied, not bothering to hide my disgust.

He laughed. “Not used to drinking?”

“No, and I don’t plan to be.” I was both desperate and terrified to fully remember what I’d said or done on the walk home with Sam. “How can anyone go through that more than once?”

“Beats me. I don’t drink either.” His tone said he could care less what anyone else thought of his choices.

“How do you do that?” I asked in a peeved voice. “How do you just do whatever you want, and people still think you’re cool?”

He let out a short laugh. “Is that what you think? You really don’t know much about high school.”

“Are you kidding me? I know everything about high school. I’ve seen every single episode of Gossip Girl and 90210… including the remake.”

He laughed again. “Because those shows are so true to life.”

I grinned. “Are you telling me you don’t jet off to Paris or the Bahamas on every school break?”

“Nah, I don’t like French food, and too much sun irritates my skin,” he said.

We reached the densely wooded stretch of land running behind the school. The growth was so old and thick, an entire team of mercenaries could be lurking just a few feet inside and you’d never spot them. The trees also formed a natural barrier. It was a good bet any trouble visiting Harrington wouldn’t come from that direction.

“Are trees a particular interest of yours?” Von broke into my thoughts.

“Oh… well… there just aren’t many evergreens in Pakistan.” I quickly switched gears. “By the way, what’s the story with Hayden and Stef? Why does she get all the attention?”

The woods sloped down toward the river, and we slowed our gait to a trot.

“I’m kind of surprised she even stayed at Harrington after Rose’s death,” he said. “It can’t be easy for her to see a total stranger take Rose’s place.”

I stopped as his words hit me. Von jogged a few more paces before doubling back.

“I’m a complete jerk, aren’t I?” I said, not really needing an answer to know how thoughtless I’d been. I’d been so eager to prove myself, I hadn’t given any thought to how my presence affected Hayden. How must she feel being saddled with a complete outsider, just days after the loss of her best friend?

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said. “Come on, time for a cool down.”

We downshifted to a walk, rounding back to the sandy path by the river.

“Hayden’s a survivor—she has to be with those parents of hers,” he said. “It’s Stef I worry about.”

“You guys are roommates, right?”

He nodded. “He’s three months younger than Hayden, and his mom is not the movie star ex-wife.”

I grimaced. “That can’t be easy.”

“Who knows?” He shrugged, obviously having little sympathy for the adults who’d put their kids into such an awkward position. “Whatever agreement Stef’s mom made with Stephen Frasier, she got him to promise to give their son the same advantages as Hayden. That’s why Stef’s mom insisted he come to Harrington.” Where he continually had to be reminded of his second-class status.

“At least he’s still a member of the family,” I observed.

“Barely.” Von pulled up the hem of his T-shirt to swab his sweaty face, revealing surprisingly awesome abs. “Frasier hardly acknowledges his son, and I don’t think Hayden knew about him until a few years ago.”

“Why?” My heart ached for Stef. “Is it because he’s illegitimate, or because he’s gay?”

Von shrugged again. “Who knows with a guy like Frasier, but every month, Stef sinks deeper into his own personal hellhole of rejection.”

Homosexuality was illegal in most Middle Eastern countries. I’d heard stories of gay men being stoned, murdered by militants, or sometimes killed by their own families in so-called honor killings. The only openly gay man I’d ever known, a tough as nails army Corporal named Mendoza, had risked his life getting my dad out of a dangerous spot in Syria. Surely Mendoza had proven his worth a dozen times over, and whatever he did in his personal life was no one’s concern but his.

“Isn’t there anyone here who can help? A counselor, an LGBT group, something?”

“Sure, but that’s the thing about self-loathing,” he observed. “You’re not good enough to be in any club that would have you as a member.”

“Has Hayden tried talking to their dad?”

Von shrugged. “She does the best she can, which is spending her nights doing homework with him in Hale’s common.”

Yes! So that’s where she disappeared to every night, and I didn’t even need technology to find out. Score one for secret agent girl.

“You could come, too,” he said with a grin. “Calculus would be a lot more fun if we did it together.”

“So says the guy with the perfect scores,” I laughed. “I saw your grade on Thursday’s pop quiz, you know.”

“You know what they say about mathematicians,” he said with a comical leer. “We must do it constantly to prove ourselves.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m afraid this mathematician only does it in theory.”

He laughed as I continued my subtle interrogation—disguised as flirting, of course—about our classmates. We walked to the benches fronting the duck pond to stretch, but somewhere in the corner of my mind I had to think that if Stef ever learned I’d been sent here to protect one Frasier family member but not the other, it would confirm his darkest fears.

When I got back to my room, I tiptoed past my sleeping roommate to grab a shower before dutifully texting Major Taylor the dreaded code word. She needed to know about the listening devices. I prayed ZEBRAS would never be needed; HORSES got her plenty worked up.

I next went on Instagram and learned Stef had been right; it appeared everyone in the senior class had followed me back, even Hayden. With access to everyone’s accounts, I laboriously scrolled back through the last several months of posts.

Rose Winters was quickly becoming more than just a name or a tragic story. She’d been a real girl who’d been friends with the people I was coming to know, a girl who’d probably wanted many of the same things I did. It was a foolish notion, this need for connection, but I wanted to see her selfies, which posts she favorited, and what pictures she thought important enough to share.

The first picture I found of her was with Hayden. It was on the last day of classes, and the roommates had their arms slung happily around each other’s shoulders as they celebrated the end of finals. A little further back were more photos, sometimes in a group, sometimes alone, but almost always with Hayden. Quinn popped up often in the pictures with Hayden and Rose, but her expression was never as relaxed as those of the other two girls.

There was nothing romantic about the photos of Rose and Hayden, or the trust and comfort they displayed with each other. They were simply best friends. My momentary stab of envy was swiftly replaced with profound sadness. Poor Rose. Poor Hayden.

Then something else caught my eye. Several of the photos were familiar. I dropped to the floor and ran my hand underneath the bottom of my bed, where I’d stashed my ID card along with all the other sensitive documents Karen had handed over. The lining had already been ripped when I arrived, making it easy to use the box springs as a hiding spot.

Extracting the copies of the photos sold to the gossip rags, I compared them to ones on the class Instagram account. Sure enough, every illicitly brokered picture could be found on the site as well, posted by a number of students. They couldn’t all be in on the sale of the photos.

I tossed my copies back into the envelope with disgust. This was a fool’s errand. It didn’t matter who took them; anyone could have pulled those photos off the feed and sold them. Besides, with drones flying over the property, anyone could be photographing the campus.

I’d rolled onto the floor again to tuck away my secrets, pushing the envelope deep into the springs, when my fingers brushed against something solid. It came out easily with a tug, and I discovered it was an expensive cell phone that was almost new except for the shattered screen. The rest of it was protected by a pretty white case decorated with a red rose.

It must have belonged to Rose, of course, which answered the question of why she had gone out to buy a new one. But why was it stashed in the bedsprings?

The pile of blankets across the room stirred as Hayden chose that moment to wake. I shoved the phone under the mattress and climbed to my feet. As intrigued as I was by the lengths Rose had gone to hide it, the phone’s discovery would remain a secret for now.

If a dead girl had thought it was important enough to keep hidden, then so did I.