“The NIH and some senator, I don’t remember his name. Something with an R. Russell or something like that. My dad was going to leave all his information at the house,” I say. “But I don’t even know if it’s still there.”

For the first time it occurs to me that my dad’s itinerary and my house being trashed could be related.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asks.

“I went by earlier,” Jasper says, then hesitates. “The house is kind of . . . It’s trashed. Someone tore the place apart.”

“What about Gideon?” Rachel asks.

“He doesn’t know anything,” I say. “He and my dad had a fight yesterday and he hasn’t been back home. I called the police and told them that my dad is missing, but I don’t think they are going to do anything about it. He hasn’t been gone long enough.”

“Okay.” Rachel puts her two hands flat on the desk like she is about to push herself up to standing. Instead she looks me square in the eye. “We’re going to find your dad and he is going to be fine.”

“We need to get the other girls out, too.”

“Of course,” she says. “We’ll sort out whatever this business is with the hospital. We will nail the people responsible.”

But it’s far down on her list, I can tell.

“No. I mean now,” I say. “They’re in danger.”

“Danger?” Rachel asks, skeptical. “Like physical danger?”

“Something like that, I think.” I hope she doesn’t press me for proof. “And I didn’t even warn them. I didn’t tell them anything. If you won’t help me, I can go back there myself.”

“Whoa, Wylie.” She holds up her hands. “I’ll do whatever I can to get the other girls out. But first I’m going to call the police about your dad. I’ll see if I can find the itinerary at your house and we’ll get him tracked down.” She is all calm matter-of-factness now. “Then we’ll deal with this situation at the hospital. I have a friend at the Justice Department. He probably has a contact at the NIH. Always helps to have an inside line. But I am on it, I promise.” And for the first time since we left the hospital, I feel my body loosen the tiniest bit. “And listen, if worse comes to worst, we’ll use your mom’s journalist contacts to apply some pressure. The threat of a headline can be extremely motivating.”

“Thank you,” I say, and in that I hope she also hears: especially because I was always such a bitch to you.

“Of course,” she says. Then her brow wrinkles. “Wait, so how did you get out of the hospital?”