I’d imagined walking into the house on the hill more times than I could count. Sometimes I was the commander in chief in my daydreams, and sometimes I was just imagining what it would be like to live in a place like this. But I’d never, not once, imagined climbing through the second-story window like a thief. Yet here I was, in a tree, waiting for Regan to finish prying the window open. A second later she had it and slipped inside. I followed, not wanting to be left alone in the tree for a passing security guard to catch. The room was pitch-black, and I crouched, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Before they had a chance, Regan had me by the arm and was pulling me out into a hallway.

I did my best not to gape in openmouthed awe, but it was hard. The house was everything I’d imagined it would be and more. The walls were ornately paneled in dark, glossy wood, and the carpet under my feet was so thick it practically squished. I didn’t have a chance to look around, though; Regan was hurrying down the wide staircase, and I hustled to catch up. She turned left, and we were inside an office. The office, I realized, of the commander in chief of the Academy. A fireplace sat in one corner, the wood burned down to embers, and on the opposite side of the room was an elegant wood desk. A desk that Regan was ripping apart. Papers rained down around me like snow as she shifted through the piles on the desk like a hurricane.

“Are those them?” I asked, walking over to stare at a pair of Chaos Cuffs in their glass display case.

“What?” Regan asked, jerking her head up to see what I was looking at.

“Are these the cuffs she used to catch the Hitler Butterfly?” I asked, thinking of the jump that had catapulted Regan’s mom to fame. We’d studied it in class on countless occasions, recapping how she’d managed to catch the Butterfly who would have reversed the outcome of World War II.

“Are you serious right now?” Regan asked, and I ducked as she threw something, I think a book, at my head. It sailed past me to thump against the wall. “Focus, will you?” she said.

“Right. Sorry,” I said, and hurried to help her, grabbing the closest stack of papers and digging in. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking for. I doubted there was a paper with the heading “Here are the locations of the security cameras that are actually explosives. Have a nice day.” But I was really hoping that I’d know it when I saw it.

“Got it!” Regan cried a second later, and I jumped, the papers I’d been holding flying in every direction.