Shadowlands (Shadowlands 1)

“As soon as you and the girls are ready, we’ll lock up and go,” she said. “The car we’re providing for you is parked in the driveway. In it is a GPS programmed with your final destination, along with a packet of information on your new identities, credit cards, IDs, that sort of thing.”

“New identities?” my father asked incredulously. “Is that really necessary?”

“It will be if you need to stay in hiding for more than a couple of days,” she replied. “Your first names will stay the same, but you’ll be the Thayer family, from Manhattan.”

My father let out a rueful laugh.

“What’s so funny?” the agent asked.

“I always wanted to live in the city, but my wife couldn’t stand the noise.”

I never knew that about my dad. He’d always seemed like Mr. Suburbanite.

“Do you always put new lives together so fast?” he asked.

“When dealing with a man like Krauss, we try to have our bases covered. We created this contingency plan as soon as we learned of Rory’s attack.”

“Oh,” my dad said, a hard, angry note in his voice. “Was there a reason you didn’t mention this to me earlier?”

“I’m telling you now,” Messenger said calmly. “There was no need to worry

your girls more than they already were.”

There was a long pause, followed by another zip.

“All set, Mr. Miller?” Messenger asked.

“Don’t you mean Mr. Thayer?” my father said, dripping sarcasm all over the place.

My face burned. Why couldn’t he ever just answer a question normally? Why did everything have to be a fight?

“Girls!” my dad said, stepping into the hallway with an old black suitcase. Darcy came back upstairs with her hood up over her head and her black jeans folded in her arms. “Are you ready?” my dad asked.

“I’ll get my bags,” Darcy replied, ducking past him into her room. I grabbed my stuff and rejoined them, just as Darcy arrived in her doorway with her hobo bag on one shoulder, her backpack over the other, her rolling suitcase behind her, and her earbuds in her ears.

“Are you coming with us?” I asked Agent Messenger.

She shook her head. “I have to stay here. I’m the expert on Krauss,” she said, gesturing to the flashing lights outside.

“Oh, okay,” I said softly, a tremor of nerves running through me.

“I need your cell phones,” Messenger said, holding out a palm.

“What? Why?” Darcy’s eyes were wide. She was addicted to texting. I was sure she couldn’t imagine the next hour without her phone, let alone possibly days.

“You cannot contact anyone,” Messenger answered as I handed my phone over. “If anyone knows where you’re going, it puts not only all of you, but them in danger as well. And when you get where you’re going, you can’t tell anyone who you really are or where you’re from or why you’re there. For your safety and theirs.”

My father gave her his cell. Darcy pulled hers out and started to hit some buttons. Messenger snatched it right out of her hands.

“Hey!” Darcy shouted. “I was just deleting something!”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on reading your love notes,” the agent shot back. “Now let’s go.”

We followed Messenger down the stairs. I plucked my rain jacket from its hook and trailed my family out the front door, where dozens of police cars sat silently, their lights flashing. The rain was coming down hard. I tugged my hood up to cover my hair. A big black SUV sat in the center of our driveway, its chrome hubcaps glossy from the rain.

My dad was just reaching for the driver’s side door handle, when Messenger’s phone let out a pealing screech. We all froze. Maybe they’d found him. Maybe we didn’t have to leave.

“Yes. Yes, I understand,” Messenger said. “Of course, sir. Yes. We’re on our way now.” She shoved the phone in her pocket and opened the car door for my dad. So much for that. “Do not stop until you are out of the state,” she instructed. “Do not make any calls, don’t tell anyone who you really are, and stick to your new backstories. Any questions?”