What do you think will happen next? It’s a bit like Christmas, isn’t it? You can shake the pretty boxes, but you just don’t know what will be inside.

I have an idea of what comes next, but you probably won’t like it. And I don’t imagine you’ll do anything about it until you’re pushed. But I’m right here, Agent Cooper. Ready and waiting.

You’re waiting, too, aren’t you? Enjoy sitting on your hands before the next bodies pop up. Two more weeks! Or maybe sooner. The time will fly by, I’m sure. It really is like Christmas.

Best,

Simon

P.S. Don’t bother to check for fingerprints. The envelope will be dirty but the letter is all me.

Cooper sets the letter away from him on the desk, steeples his fingers in front of his mouth, and stares at the letter for a long time.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Okay,” Cooper says. “Change of plan.”

With some consideration of the matter, Emma realizes it’s Wednesday. She woke just before dawn and chased away the sour aftertaste of her dreams on the running path that Quantico students refer to as the Yellow Brick Road, slapping around obstacles that she didn’t want to engage with and generally pissing off people struggling over rope ladders and trudging through mud pits. Now she feels lighter, elevated after her run.

The same could not be said for Cooper. She’s prepared to put aside baleful thoughts about his treatment of her on the phone last night—the man looks heavier today, like the world is weighing on him.

Bell’s been restacking file boxes in their basement office, getting McMurtry’s stuff out of the way. Now he comes, dusting off his hands, to sit at the desk.

“So what’s the change?” he asks.

Cooper fidgets with the folder in his hands. “Sounds like the session with McMurtry went well, so I’m adding another subject to the interview roster. And I want you to interview him next.”

“Why is he next?” Emma asks. “Is he an easy subject?”

Cooper is blank-faced. “None of them are easy. This one is the hardest.”

He tosses the folder on the desktop.

Emma reads the label. “Simon Gutmunsson.”

Bell’s expression changes fast. He pushes back from the desk, out of his chair. “I can’t do that.”

Emma stares at him. “What?”

Bell speaks only to Cooper. “You know I can’t do that. Why did you even pull that file?”

“He falls within the bounds of the—”

“You said he didn’t fit the parameters of the project. You said we wouldn’t be dealing with him.” Bell’s voice is sharp, his face a stone mask. Emma hasn’t seen him like this before.

“He started when he was fifteen,” Cooper says carefully. “He fits the—”

“You said he doesn’t fit the parameters. This is bullshit and you know it.”

“We need him.”

“You won’t get him,” Bell says. “Not from me.”

Bell walks out. The door of the gray office room smacks against the wall before slowly swinging back again. The click of the latch closing is a dramatic punctuation. Emma is dumbstruck.