“There was a girl I was with—she and I decided to pull the fire alarm,” I say, making a point of not looking at Jasper. He knows I am deliberately leaving Kendall out as a contributing factor. Rachel would disapprove of Kendall’s role in all this even more than Jasper does. “But then it seems like there was an actual fire. Everyone was kind of unprepared and freaking out. Even the guards. I was able to sneak out, but I’m not sure Kelsey did.”

“Wait, there was a fire at the hospital?” Rachel asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I mean, I don’t know for sure because I took off. But the alarm went off and I smelled smoke, and firefighters came.”

“That’s an odd coincidence,” Rachel says. And she is suspicious, but I’m not sure of what or whom.

“What do you mean, a coincidence?” Jasper asks.

Rachel doesn’t look at him. Instead, she keeps her eyes on me. “I mean, after the fire at the camp.”

19

JASPER AND I RIDE THE T TOWARD BEACON HILL AND RACHEL’S BROWNSTONE. The few people on the early-evening Sunday train look so ordinary, reading their newspapers, fixated on their phones. Going about their day as if nothing is amiss. I envy them.

Rachel had insisted we go to her house. That she would handle looking into everything. I tried to argue with her, but she did have a point. If there are people from the NIH—or whoever—looking for me, I should stay out of sight.

As soon as I’d agreed, Rachel moved fast getting into details. Extra keys to her house, a card with all her numbers written down, a spare burner phone. She called it that too: “a burner.” Apparently, this was not the first time she’d helped someone disappear. Rachel convinced us to ditch Jasper’s car on a side street and take the train to her house. We were supposed to stay there until she came for us.

“Out of an abundance of caution, I’d keep that off as much as possible.” She had pointed to Jasper’s phone. “They’d first have to connect you with Jasper and then realize you’re together to use it to find you. It’s a long shot, but not impossible. Never ceases to amaze me what the government can accomplish when it wants to. And yet how little it gets done most of the time.” The last thing she did was hand us a thick stack of twenties that she’d pulled out of a drawer. They were stiff and brand-new when she pressed them into my hand. “Definitely don’t use a credit card, Wylie. They’ll find you that way in a heartbeat.”

And just like that, we were officially on the run. Again.