“Maybe it would be less of a problem if you hadn’t tackled me,” I say, because it seems like my dad could use some help.

“Hey, you fell!” the short agent pipes up. “I didn’t touch you.”

That’s true, of course, but it hardly feels like the important point.

Agent Klute frowns at me. None of this is going the way it was supposed to. And now he is aggravated, but only a little. Like he’s just gotten a small drop of soup on an otherwise dark shirt. “I can assure you, Dr. Lang, we have extremely broad authority to question witnesses in cases of suspected terrorism. And we don’t need a warrant. Wylie is not under arrest. At least not yet.”

“After that”—my dad points to me, my arm specifically—“the only way we’re answering your questions is if our lawyer tells us we have to.”

Agent Klute takes a breath. “Fine. When will she be here?”

“I don’t know,” my dad says, trying to sound like this gives him the upper hand. Though he knows that it does not. And he’s worried about where this situation is headed. I can feel that loud and clear.

Agent Klute stares blankly at my dad. “We’ll just wait for your lawyer then. For as long as it takes.”

FOR A WHILE after, a half hour maybe, my dad and I sit in silence, side by side on the couch. The agents stand as still as statues in each corner. Agent Klute is the only one who moves, pacing as he sends texts. He’s getting more agitated with each one, our floor creaking eerily under his heavy feet.

I want to text Jasper, but who knows what he will say? And if the agents do bring me in for questioning, they could easily take my phone. It’s safer to wait to talk to Jasper until after they are gone.

My dad calls Rachel two more times, but both calls go to voice mail. And so we wait some more. Thirty more minutes go by. Then an hour. I cannot believe how uncomfortable our living room couch is. I don’t think anyone has ever sat on it that long, definitely not me. Eventually, I need to use the bathroom, but I can’t bear the thought of someone going with me. And I am sure they will.

I’m just beginning to think I’ll have no choice but to bear bathroom babysitters when Agent Klute’s phone vibrates loudly in his hand. “Excuse me, I need to take this call,” he says, nodding at the other agents, letting them know they are temporarily in charge before stepping outside the house.