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An idea surfaces. “Hey, Gene?”

“Yep?” He tries to neaten the haphazard stacks of paper and journals.

“I was just wondering, um, where’d you get the jam from? That was on the toast.”

“Up the street. You know I’ve been raiding the White House kitchens for months.”

“Yep. Do you ever see Juno?”

He pauses, his eyes finding mine. “No. I don’t suppose she visits the kitchen much. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” I shouldn’t put him in danger anyway. It’s selfish of me to even think it. I’ll have to come up with some other way to pass the information. Even so, I write down the sequence, the proteins and the factor on a scrap of paper.

He goes back to tidying, and I sit down at my desk, my eyes unfocused, my mind running in circles. After a short while, Gretchen comes over and whispers, “I double-checked. All erased. Gone.”

“Good.” I slip her the paper. “This is it. Keep it somewhere safe.”

“Got it.” She tucks it under her leg.

“What have you two been up to?” Evie strolls up, her reading glasses making her eyes look huge.

“Nothing, Wise Old Owl.” Gretchen hurries back to her desk.

“Not suspicious at all.” Evie says quietly as she looks between the two of us a few times, but she’s smart enough to stop asking questions. “What’s for lunch?” She turns her attention to Gene.

“Dr. Clark?”

I jump at the loud voice and find Major Barker standing just inside the lab doors. “Hey,” I say lamely.

“A word, please.”

“Okay.” I exchange uneasy glances with Gretchen and Evie.

“You want me to come with in case he tries something?” Evie asks.

“I’m not going to try anything.” He narrows his eyes. “You have my word.”

“I don’t know, Georgia.” Evie crosses her arms.

“I have no orders to take you,” he says.

Gretchen, Evie, and I watch him warily.

He sighs, the closest thing to emotion I’ve seen from him. “I swear on my oath to the Constitution. All right?”

“Seems legit.” I stand, the nervous energy from Gretchen’s findings quickening my steps. “What’s the problem?” I follow the major out into the antechamber, warm spring sunlight falling through the high windows in neat stripes.

“Nothing yet.” He draws me away from the lab doors and closer to the windows. “But the Saints are mobilizing.”

“Saints?” I ask.

“The ones who destroyed the lab. The ones who—” His gaze is piercing. “The ones you claimed you weren’t there to witness, yet described their patch perfectly.”

“I didn’t say I never saw. I said—” Wait, what lie did I tell? That’s the problem with lying when you aren’t used to it. You can’t remember what you lied about and then you’re being grilled by a no-nonsense Army asshole who sees right through you.

“It doesn’t matter.” He cuts through my inner turmoil with a sharp tone. “What matters is that their numbers are growing, and they have a very clear set of goals.”

“Which are?”