Eric grinned, and Delia’s only thought was how glad she was that her parents were coming to Demo Day. She wanted them all to meet. Because it felt strange that the people she was closest to didn’t know one another. And she was becoming closer and closer with Eric.

Operation Flatline, aka take down Ryan Thompson, meant they were spending every minute they weren’t spending on Demo Day prep together. At this point that was about twenty-four hours a day because their work on each of their apps was done. With the presentation in two days, it was now up to Lucy for Delia’s team and Marty for Eric’s.

Which wasn’t to say that Delia and stress were unacquainted. They were besties. Because she and Eric had yet to find anything to prove her database theory.

Delia opened a book on SQL and read the first line. “Oh, right, I already read this one.” She closed it.

“The whole book?”

“Most of it.”

“And memorized it?”

“Most of it.”

“And to think I almost chose a different incubator because I wanted to be on the East Coast . . .”

“A different incubator? . . . Different . . .” A page from the book flashed in Delia’s mind. She dove into her laptop, muttering to herself.

“Uh, Lia?”

She didn’t look up. “That could be . . . it might be . . .” Keystrokes flew without a pause. “We’ve looked everywhere in the database for this table. We can see the name of it in the code, so why can’t we find it? But if the table’s in a different database . . .”

“What are you talking about?” Eric said.

Delia pushed the book toward him. “Check the index.”

Eric flipped to the back, then to a new page, and started reading. “This way no one would even know the table exists?”

“Except for Ryan. If I can access the objects that hook into it, I can find . . .” Delia kept working, her brain connecting faster than her fingers could move. She dug in, seeing it all so clearly, knowing it was there, if only she could find . . . if only it were . . . Oh, come on. And then, her jaw slackened. “Uh, Eric . . .” She lifted her head. “I think . . . I think maybe I found it.”

He put the book down. “Found what?”

“It. I found it.” A rush of adrenaline shot Delia out of her seat. “The table. Ryan’s secret list!”

“Delia! Are you sure? That’s amaz—”

“No, no, wait.” Her brain wouldn’t slow down. “The table . . . so it exists . . . but is that enough?” She sat back down and extended her fingers across the keyboard. “We still have to access it, get inside, and show the connections between—”

Eric placed his hands over hers. “Hold on, one thing at a time because . . . you found it!”

The guy at the next table shushed them.