Page 24 of Good Girls Lie

“An article in theDaily Mail—that’s a paper back home. They did a story on Stuxnet last summer. They talked about how the Israelis pushed the virus into the Iranian nuclear systems. It looked interesting so I thought I’d try writing a compression code to enable the backdoor to close quicker as you leave. A footprint eraser, so to speak. Like an impression in sand just before the water covers it and it disappears completely.”

Dr. Medea laughs. “So, you just thought you’d write some encrypted compression code in class to perfect your earlier version, did you? Best be careful, Miss Carlisle, or the NSA will come calling.”

“I didn’t do anything—”

“Not to arrest you. To hire you. It’s an elegant bit of code. You are far more advanced than most of the girls here. I’m going to talk with Dean Westhaven about placing you out of this class and developing a one-on-one program for you. You clearly have talent, I’d like to nurture it.”

“No, no, that’s fine. I’m happy to stay in this class.”

“You won’t learn anything of use if you’re already at this level, Ash. It’s a waste of time. And talent, I must add.”

“But—”

“Listen to me. I know what it’s like to be the smartest person in the room. It makes you a target.”

“I’m already a target,” I grumble, then kick myself again.Stop, for heaven’s sake.He’s too easy to talk to.

“Oh, that won’t last long. Trust me. I know this breed. You might be an oddity right now, but in a few weeks, you’re going to be the toast of the town. Especially when they figure out you’re smart. At Goode, the best currency you have is your brain. So, relax. And let me do a tutorial so we can enhance your skills. No sense holding you back.”

“I—Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

“Yes, well, we’ll make sure you use your skills for good, not evil. I’ll leave a note in your box as to when our first session will be. Good day, Miss Carlisle. Go enjoy the rest of this beautiful late summer before we’re all stuck inside shivering.”

I hurry from his office before he can change his mind. One-on-one instruction from the man who helped devise the modern end-to-end encryption protocols for private email services isn’t a bad thing.

Except...to be singled out by a teacher, any teacher, goes against my ethos here at Goode.

But I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to show off a little bit. It was the first time since I left England that I’ve felt at home. Fingers on the keys, tapping away, the lines of code spooling out from my mind. I’ve always been good with computers. A few books checked out from the library taught me the languages I needed, and then I played, developing my own code, writing programs to fulfill basic tasks.

Not that I’ve ever actually tried hacking. Well, not really. Okay, maybe a little, here and there.

16

THE DEATH

Outside, the sun is beating down, the air thick, almost sticky with humidity. I grab a bottle of water from my backpack and cross to the large oak tree in front of Old West. Despite the sunlight, the building stands in shade as if a cloud hangs above it. From this vantage point, I have a perfect view of the dorms and of my window. Oddly enough, as I watch, the curtains twitch. I glance at my watch. Camille shouldn’t be in the room right now. She is supposed to be at choir practice. We compared schedules this morning, taping them to the inside of the closet doors so we could find one another if need be. At the time, I was touched by her concern—wanting me to fit in, to be happy, seemed paramount to Camille this morning.

Now it’s obvious she just wanted to know when I wouldn’t be in the room.

What is she doing? Going through my things?

Rage fills me, and I start to get up, to run to the room, to confront her. This will not stand.

The shadow moves again, the curtains fall back into place, and I catch a flash of dark, curly hair. Vanessa is in my room. Are they together? Has Camille skipped class? Or have I simply remembered the schedule wrong?

I’m torn now. Confront them, having made a mistake, and I look like a fool.

It’s not like I have anything that will reveal all to them. I’ve been very careful.

Cool off. Take a breath. Wait and see what shakes out.

Good, bad, or indifferent, I have to make my way here, and to do that means not drawing notice to myself. And yet...here I am, doing the exact opposite. Showing off for the hot teacher was beyond stupid. I’ve managed to get myself singled out three times, from the dean, Dr. Medea, and Becca Curtis.

One of the three is going to be a big problem. I can feel it in my bones.

The bells ring, shuddering through my skin. It’s biology now, with Dr. Hall, but as I walk past the dean’s office, Westhaven comes out and stops me.

“Ash? May I have a word?”