Read Cross My Heart And Hope To Spy for Free Online Page B

younger than he did in the pictures of him and my mom. And in this picture, my father wasn’t alone.
    Mr. Solomon’s arm was around my father’s shoulders. They stood on a baseball field. They were young. They were strong. And if I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn they were both immortal.
    But I did know better. And that, I guess, was the problem.
    “Did you find what you needed, sweetheart?” Mom asked, and I thought it was a really good question. I aimed my watch at the photo, imagined the faint click as I took a picture. “Cam,” Mom said again, moving toward me.
    “I’m not feeling too well,” I said, and slipped the picture back to where my mother kept it hidden. From me. From herself. From whoever. I moved away from the desk, toward the door. “Can I maybe have a rain check on supper?”
    “Cam,” Mom said, stopping me. She put her hand against my forehead like Grandma Morgan always does. “It could be a cold—you know something has been going around.” I did know. I’d already seen the proof in her trash can.
    “I think I just need to go to bed,” I said. “It’s pretty late.”
    But then I opened the door, and there, in the Hall of History, I saw Bex.
    And Liz was sitting on her shoulders.

Chapter Five

    Time’s a strange thing at the Gallagher Academy. Usually it flies. But sometimes it gets really, really slow. Needless to say, this was one of
those
times.
    The Operatives modified a Mobile Observation Device (aka Macey’s new digital camera) and attached it to the bookcase across from the entrance to the headmistress’s office with a Retractable Adhesion Unit (aka duct tape) and programmed it to take pictures at ninety-second intervals.

    Down the corridor, I saw Macey kneeling in front of the mysteriously locked door to the East Wing.

    The Operatives secured an Entry/Exit Detection Device (aka a piece of string) to the doorknob in question, knowing it would fall off if the door was opened in The Operatives’ absence.
    For a split second, everything seemed to freeze, but then I heard my mom say, “What is it, Cam?” She walked toward me.
    “Nothing.” I closed the door and leaned against it. “It’s just…” It’s
just that my friends are completely insane and on the other side of this door right now, doing things that they really aren’t supposed to be doing, and if you catch them you’ll be really mad
—
or proud
—
but probably mad.
    “It’s just … I wanted to tell you that I think I’m really in a good place this semester.” (Because technically, at that moment, the best possible place was between the headmistress and my roommates.) “And I was thinking about what you said,” I went on. “I’m committed to—”
    But then a bang on the door cut me off, and I had a bad feeling that Liz had fallen from Bex’s shoulders and knocked herself unconscious on the doorknob.
    “Cam,” Mom said, inching closer. “You gonna get that?”
    But I didn’t dare turn around. “Get what?” Another knock.
“Ooooh. Thaaaat.”
    I opened the door. Please let it be Bex, I prayed. Or Liz … Or Macey … Or …
    Anyone but Joe Solomon!
    Oh my gosh! Could the night get any worse? Yes, it turns out—it could. Because not only was one of the CIA’s best secret agents standing in front of me, but my best friends in the world were twenty feet behind him, being secretive and agenty! (I know because I could see Macey’s hand holding a compact around the corner to see whether or not the coast was clear. Which, obviously, it wasn’t!)
    I had to buy some time—a minute, thirty seconds at least—so Bex, Liz, and Macey could pull themselves from their hiding places and get out of there.
    So I said, “Oh, hello, Mr. Solomon,” because Madame Dabney has trained me to be socially gracious, and Mr. Solomon himself has trained me to act normal under the most abnormal circumstances.
    “Ms. Morgan, I hate to bother you, but…” Mr. Solomon looked past me toward my mother.