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She sighed, tore her pages free along the perforated edge, and went to the desk on the computer floor. She slapped her printed pages down and dug through her backpack while the man at the desk watched her.

“Do you have a phone I could use?” she asked, showing him the pager.

“Is that the Bravo Alpha?” he asked. “Motorola?”

“It’s… Yeah,” she said. “Yep.”

“Cool,” he said. “I heard they’re designing one with a keyboard attached so devices can communicate with each other without using a telephone as a third party.”

“Wouldn’t that be something. If I had that, I wouldn’t need to use your phone.”

“Oh, right.” He picked up the phone and setting it on the counter. “One courtesy call.”

“Thanks.” She dialed the number on the pager. This time, it was a different area code, but when the other side picked up, it sounded like the same man she’d spoken to last time. Like the call was being rerouted.

“Identification?”

“Agent Juno, Akron.” She winked at the man at the desk, who was staring at her with his mouth hanging open, then nonchalantly began tearing the edges off the computer paper and separating each page.

“We have an assignment for you,” he said. “You’re to meet your contact at the following address.”

“Hang on.” She looked up. “You have a pencil?”

The man closed his mouth and pulled a pencil out of a drawer.

“Okay.” She wrote down the address on the back of her paper, pressing lightly so it could be erased later. “What time?”

“One hour.”

“I need two,” she said, “unless you want me showing up in jeans.”

“Two hours,” he said and hung up.

Annie sighed. “They never give me enough information,” she complained.

“Who…who was that?” the man asked.

“Oh, church social. Thanks for the help.”

* * *

Annie walked through the empty kitchen, pausing when she noticed a little pile of candy on the table on top of a white envelope addressed to Anabelle Weaver. A tiny Peppermint Pattie, a Hershey’s Kiss in gold foil, and a bite-sized chocolate bar.

Helen must have left them there so she wouldn’t miss them. Interesting.

She scooped up the candy and dropped it into her bag, then picked up the envelope and tore open the flap. It contained a check for a little over seven hundred dollars.

She felt a little dizzy and sat down at the table. Reaching back into her bag, she pulled out the Peppermint Pattie, looking at the numbers on the check while she peeled back the foil. She popped the candy into her mouth, letting the dark chocolate melt on her tongue, then sank her teeth into the soft, white center. It was hot and cold all at once, and she savored the contrast.

The check gave her a sense of relief. She knew she was being used and coerced because she’d been on the other side plenty of times, using and coercing her way through everything. But she hadn’t been sure they’d really pay her, at least not at the rate sheasked. It had seemed like an outlandishly high number when she said it, and now she wished she’d asked for more.

You can do this, she told herself. Short bursts of the other life for good money and then back to this one. She was under their thumb, but it was better than being under their entire hand. She would be more careful this time. She wouldn’t put herself in a position that put anyone in danger again.

How much damage could she do while sleeping in a garage, listening to the school bus lumber down the street in the mornings? Ashley blasting Paula Abdul and Janet Jackson through her open window. Kevin asking for a computer, the baby crying at night. This was her real life.

She could keep being a part of this life. At least for a bit longer.

And if they kept calling her, maybe she could afford an apartment of her own after a while and wouldn’t have to deal with student housing once the quarter ended and her time here with Helen was up.