See How They Run (Embassy Row 2)

“So?” I ask.

For the first time I can remember, Lila actually smiles at me.

“So if the Society isn’t going to help and the police think he’s guilty, and his own father was willing to throw him to the wolves … what are we going to do about it?”

“We?” I ask.

“Alexei was my friend long before you came back and started stirring up trouble. So, yes, what are we going to do?”

Are you sure this is a good idea?” Noah asks as he looks up and down the deserted stretch of beach. We’re too far from the city gates for tourists or even the locals to bother us. The sun is high and there’s no wind coming in off the sea. It’s the hottest day of summer so far, and I’m starting to sweat, but even though we haven’t seen a soul in ages, I can’t blame it entirely on the heat.

“I mean, are you absolutely certain?” Noah asks again.

Is he asking if I’m sure I wasn’t followed out of the tunnel that took me from inside the US to the alley behind a mosque deep in the heart of the city? Is he wondering if this is the best use of our time and limited resources? Or maybe Noah, like the rest of us, is just terrified that this is yet another in a long history of Grace’s Very Bad Ideas.

I’m not certain, so I look at Megan.

“According to my sources,” Megan says, which I’m pretty sure is code for I hacked into the police mainframe, but please don’t tell my mom, “the police are finished on the island. They’ve combed every inch of it for clues, and no one is planning on going back.”

Which is good because it means nobody is going to bother us.

Which is bad because it means that there’s probably nothing out there to find.

But the police weren’t there that night. They never met Spence. They don’t know Alexei. And as long as there’s a chance, no matter how slim, we have to take it.

“Besides,” Megan adds with a shrug, “if the police do show up, well … we’re not the first kids to go out to that island. I think the whole world pretty much knows that by now.”

I look at the island in the distance, floating and shimmering like a mirage. Spence died there. Part of me never wants to set foot on those rocky shores again. Part of me knows I won’t sleep until I do.

“Should I go get the boat?” Megan asks, but I shake my head.

“We have another ride coming,” I say.

“Who?” Rosie sounds concerned.

But there’s already a boat on the horizon coming this way, and coming fast. A silky black ponytail waves in the wind, and before the boat even slows down, Noah starts shaking his head. He’s actually backing away.

“Grace, you can’t be serious.” Noah stares at his sister, slack-jawed and a little afraid.

“Lila is going to help us.”

For a second, my friends stand silent.

Leave it to Rosie to say what everyone else is thinking. “Are you sure we can trust her? I mean, she was there. Maybe she killed Spence? I mean, could Lila kill someone? At least I think Lila could kill someone.”

We all turn to Noah, who seems offended we would have to ask. “My sister? Oh, she could absolutely kill someone. But then she’d look you straight in the eye and tell you why she did it and how much better off the world is for her bravery. Lila might be a killer, in other words, but she’s no liar.”

“Plus, she was there that night, and she’s spent a lot of time on the island.” I think about the Society and Lila’s mom and how she’s been a part of this longer than I have. Some might say I’m keeping my enemies closer, but I just repeat, “Lila is going to help us.”

Noah stumbles a little. “I’m sorry. I cannot get used to hearing my sister’s name and the word help in the same sentence.”

We all watch as Lila pulls the boat up to the pier and lets it coast into position. I know I should say something, to defend Lila or maybe just my own good sense. But it’s no use because Lila’s already staring up at Noah.

“I know that island better than any of you,” she says. “So I’m coming.”

“Perhaps,” Noah counters. “But I know you better than any of them, so excuse me if I’m a little concerned about how much help you might actually be.”

“Noah …” Lila begins, but what follows is a stream of Portuguese so fast I could never hope to follow.

Noah throws his hands in the air and shouts back in Hebrew.

Another Hebrew insult from Lila followed by Noah’s favorite Portuguese swearword.

Lila huffs, offended. But she doesn’t turn and stomp away.

The fight swirls, a cloud of language and flying hands, insults the same in every language.

Finally, Rosie looks at me. “You want me to handle this?” she asks.

“Be my guest,” I say.

What comes next is a sound like nothing I have ever heard before. Part whistle. Part yodel. It pierces the air, a sound so fierce that Megan actually puts her hands over her ears. In the distance, dogs begin to bark. And, on the pier, Noah and his twin finally stand silent.

“Thank you, Rosie.” I give her a smile then turn to the others. “Now, as I was saying, Lila is going to help us.”

“But —” Noah starts, and Lila cuts him off.

“I’m not here for you,” she snaps. A smug smile crosses her face. “I’m here for him.”

When the door to the boat’s small cabin swings open, it seems to happen in slow motion. Even though we’re far from town and took every crazy and overly cautious detour to get here, I’m terrified when I see Alexei step out into the sun.