“Oh, hell,” Michelle sighed. “It is only summer school. They’re mostly doing arts and crafts and playing music, anyway.” She shoved her hands in her pants pockets. “But this counts as part of your six hours of games for this week, Adesina!”

The girls were already halfway up the steps, and Ghost just waved. Moto and Cesar were waiting for the girls at the top of the steps.

All of the children in the group had been in the PPA together, and all had been experimented on. Michelle couldn’t believe how normal they seemed after everything they’d been through. They went into the building, and she turned to Wally. He was looking moodily at The Carter.

The building had been built in Gardener’s memory: The Jerusha Carter Childhood Development Center. Gardener had died in the PPA, and Wally had been devastated. Michelle was grateful there was a place like The Carter for children like Adesina and her friends. Jerusha would have liked that.

“You doing okay, Wally?” she asked. He’d never been the same since Gardener died.

“Oh, I’m doing fine,” he said. “Can’t complain.”

It was the same exchange they had every time they ran into each other. There was a kind of comfort in it. He lied and she let him.

“You got plans?” he asked. She liked that he always sounded as if he was really interested.

“Got a shoot for L’Oreal,” she replied with a shrug. “Hair stuff. They’ll do computer magic and make me look like my hair is the most impossibly beautiful thing ever. Oh, and the commercial is with me and Peregrine together! How awesome is that?”

Wally nodded and smiled. “She sure was nice on American Hero. And really pretty.”

“I know. She was very nice to me, even after I got booted off.”

She looked at her phone, checking the time. “I guess I should get going. I told Babel I’d come by and get caught up on Committee business after this shoot. Busy day. Oh, are the girls still having a sleepover at your house on Friday?”

“You betcha,” he said, a real smile breaking out across his steam-shovel face. “We’re going to make cupcakes, eat pizza, and play that Ocelot game all night. I even found some of those stuffed Cherry Witch toys.” A baffled expression crossed his face. “I sure don’t understand this game. Ocelots and witches. It makes no sense at all.”

“It’s a phase. Severe cuteness is a little girl thing. And your sleepover plans sound awesome, Wally.” She gave him a hug, then began walking to the subway.

Franny didn’t need to speak Russian or Kazakh to recognize expletives. Stache was raging. Baba Yaga stood very still. The engine of the van pinged softly as the engine cooled. They stood in the empty, echoing cavernous hangar at the Talas International Airport. There were a couple of tire blocks tossed off to one side, several tall lockers, and a workbench against one wall.