He loves her. I can feel that, too. All he cares about is protecting her.

“Trust me, no one’s here,” Riel says. “My grandfather doesn’t come until summer break, which starts July fifteenth this year—I checked. Also, my grandfather’s secretary said he’s in all week. As for the flowers? Who knows? My grandfather’s third wife—the second one left him, too—is some twenty-five-year-old who he may have lobotomized. That’s the only explanation for how she can stay with him. She probably doesn’t even know why she keeps the flowers coming.” Riel tugs on the two tall refrigerator doors and stands in the glow of the stocked shelves. “I mean, look at all this food.” She picks up a decorative little jar of some kind of jam. “Fancy even when no one’s looking. Otherwise rich people dissolve into a puff of smoke.”

This “I hate rich people” thing is an act. Or no. Not an act. An effort. Riel believes it, but it takes work to distance herself from what must be partly her own history.

“So he doesn’t like what you do with Level99?” I ask, and I am not sure why—but this thing with her grandfather feels important to understand. No, he feels important to understand.

“That’s what he says. But really he hates that I have a vagina and, you know, opinions.” She shakes her head and I can feel how much she hates him. “My grandfather is all about ‘family values’ as long as you’re not talking about his family because how can he claim to be so moral when his wives are not much older than me. And he uses his money to control them, until they break free and run away. It’s gross. Really, he just hates all women because they keep dumping him. You remember that whole ‘genuine assault’ thing a few years ago?”

“Yeah, I think so.” I do have vague memories of some politician saying something horrible along those lines. “Didn’t that guy get impeached or whatever?”

“Nope. Alive and well and with a summerhouse on the Cape.”

“Your grandfather?”

“Yep, and wait until he gets wind that this whole Outlier thing is something only girls can do.” She whistles and shakes her head like she can’t wait for it. “He’ll make Quentin look totally reasonable. The idea that any woman could have something that makes her more powerful than him? It’ll make him totally crazy. I mean, even more crazy than he already is. And my grandfather has actual power, not to mention lots of people who agree with him. I think he might even try to run for president someday or something. And then, seriously, God help us all.” When Riel emerges from behind the refrigerator doors, she’s holding bread and peanut butter in her arms. She pushes the doors closed with a foot. “You guys want something to eat?”