“That’s great,” I said. “That’s really great.” With that, he headed down the hall toward the kitchen. My stomach gave an angry growl, and I realized it had been a long time since we’d eaten anything. Maybe a kitchen detour was just what we needed to unwind after the insane adventures we’d just been on. The only sound was the echo of our feet on the stone floor as we made our way across the deserted atrium.

“So,” I said a minute later as I pulled what was left of the chocolate cake out of the fridge and handed Elliot a fork. “What exactly was in that letter you put in the Academy mailbox? I saw you swipe a form from the Glitch room. What could you possibly have had time to conjure up that fast?”

Elliot shrugged as he popped a bite of cake in his mouth. “You said something to your mom about us being on a training mission, so I decided that I would create one that explained us being in her office as well as the mess on campus that night. I forged Callaway’s signature,” he said. “I mentioned a top secret training activity the mountain was doing at the Academy this week, and that for the sake of security she shouldn’t mention if she saw any of the mountain students.”

“Meaning me,” I said around a mouthful of cake.

“Exactly,” Elliot said. “I had no idea if it would work, and honestly I just pulled the idea out of thin air as you were scribbling out your letter. I just thought that if that letter could save the Academy, then why couldn’t a letter save us too?”

I gaped at him, more than a little impressed. “That’s kind of amazing,” I said.

“It was the longest of long shots,” he said.

“Not that,” I said. “That you were okay winging it. That’s not you at all.”

“Nope,” Elliot said, stabbing another forkful of cake. “It’s you. You’re a bad influence.”

I laughed, and it felt so good. Like that laughter had helped loosen the last bit inside of me that was wound too tight. Everything was okay. Our friends were okay. My mom was alive. The Academy was intact. Salzburg was out of the picture, and as far as I could tell, we’d avoided a lifetime in prison. Life was good. Elliot watched me laugh and a rare smile tugged at his mouth.

“You know what’s a shame?” he said after a few minutes of companionable silence had gone by. “The most amazing mission we will probably ever do, and we can’t even tell anyone about it.”

“You’re right,” I said. “We can’t tell a soul.”

“We can’t even tell the other kids thank you for helping save the Academy,” Elliot said. “Do you realize that? They have no idea.”