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that Riley’s real agenda was to use violence to gain power, I was going to have to convince him that I wanted to join him.
    It felt impossible.
    Playing for time, I let my eyes wander over the living room. It was simply but elegantly furnished, with leather sofas and a big TV in the corner. Bookshelves ranged across one wall.
    ‘Please sit down, Charlie,’ Riley said, taking a seat on one of the sofas.
    I perched on the sofa opposite and stared down at the rug that lay between us – a soft pattern of reds and golds. It looked – like everything in the room – extremely expensive.
Riley leaned forward, his hands clasped together. He said nothing. Was he waiting for me to speak?
    I stared mutinously at him, still with no idea what to say.
    ‘Are you alright, Charlie?’ His voice expressed concern. Again, I wondered why. I had just been caught skulking around in his back garden, yet instead of interrogating me to find out
why I was here, he was offering me food and drink and acting like he cared about me. I frowned and Riley smiled. His features were sharper than they looked on TV and his body slighter, but he was
just as charismatic as he always appeared on screen. It was partly his looks – he was square-jawed and handsome, with dark hair and intelligent eyes that seemed to see right through you
– but there was something more than that too. There was a stillness about him, almost as if he carried his own atmosphere wherever he went, like a powerful magnet that pulled everything
towards it.
    I shook myself. Never mind Riley and why he was being so nice to me, I had to focus on myself, on what I wanted here. Most importantly, I needed to remember that I must never let my guard down
in his presence.
    ‘Charlie?’ Riley repeated.
    ‘I’m fine,’ I said.
    There was a knock on the door. A woman came in. She was slender, with long blonde hair, and dressed in elegant grey trousers and a black jumper. She crossed the room and laid a blanket and a
bottle of water on the sofa beside me.
    ‘Soup and a sandwich okay?’ she asked.
    ‘That’s great, Martina,’ Riley said. ‘Thank you.’
    Martina leaned over and kissed his cheek. I watched, surprised. I’d only ever seen Riley as a politician, on TV and, of course, as the EFA’s secret leader. It had never occurred to
me that he might have a personal life. I checked Martina’s left hand. No wedding ring.
    ‘Martina is a trained EFA soldier and my girlfriend.’ Riley sounded amused.
    Embarrassed that he’d clearly guessed what I’d been thinking, I looked down at the blanket and the bottle. I wasn’t particularly cold now I was inside, but I was desperately
thirsty.
    ‘Go ahead,’ Martina said. Her voice was crisp but not unfriendly. ‘It’s not poisoned.’
    I reached out and picked up the bottle. The cap was properly fastened. I untwisted it and took a sip. The water felt blissful on my dry throat. I gulped it down greedily, then replaced the
cap.
    Riley was still watching me, his head tilted to one side.
    ‘So . . .’ he said. ‘The last time I saw you, you wanted to kill me.’ He smiled. He had small, white teeth. ‘Why are you here? It’s only a guess of course,
but I don’t sense this is an assassination attempt gone wrong.’
    ‘No, it’s not.’ I fell silent again. Why hadn’t I rehearsed what I was going to say? Nat had been totally right, Riley wasn’t easy to lie to; how on earth was I
going to convince him I genuinely wanted to join his team? I took another swig of water. Perhaps I should avoid that and simply say what
was
true.
    I twisted the cap on to my water bottle again, my hands trembling slightly. I knew Riley would have seen. I drew the blanket closer, covering my lap, then I spoke at last.
    ‘You said, the last time I saw you, that my father was alive,’ I said quietly. ‘I need to know if that is true.’
    Riley sat back, letting his hands rest on the sofa beside him. ‘Yes, Charlie, it is true. And it’s