I didn’t know what was more disturbing—the fact that something was obviously wrong, or that three faculty members of the world’s premiere spy school had forgotten to lock the door.

Because death is the only thing that could have ever kept him from you.

Townsend shrugged. 'With all due respect to the good doctor, I highly suspect he's a moron.

His mother got her purse. His father reached for the door. "Scooter," he said, by way of good-bye, "have fun with your friends." But Hale was shaking his head. He put his arm around Kat's shoulders. "She's not my friend, Dad. She's my girlfriend." Hale's parents must have walked away, but Kat wasn't looking. She was too busy staring up at Hale, trying to see into his eyes and know if he was okay. The sadness that had lingered for weeks was fading, and the boy that held her was the boy she knew. A boy who kissed her lightly.

How'd you get in here?" She raised her eyebrows. “You pick pockets.” Kat watched his hand fly to his back pocket. “I can pick locks. Looking for this?” she asked, holding up his wallet. “Oops. Maybe I can pick pockets too.

If you don't mind me saying, Mr. Hale. She's a keeper." He pointed in Kat's direction.

Wait. Far be it for me to say this" — Hamish looked around the compartment — "and if anyone tells Uncle Eddie I suggested being an upstanding citizen I'll kill 'em, but aren't there...laws and stuff? I mean, can't you...you know...sue him or something?" asked the boy who had once stolen an entire circus, all three rings.