What about him?" "What's going on with you two?" "Nothing," Kat said, a little too quickly. "Yeah, and why is that exactly? I thought you two were getting all relationshipy. But now you're gone half of the time and he's ...angry." "No, he's not." "Yes, he is." Gabrielle gave a short laugh. "He doesn't like you going off, doing these jobs on your own.

Trust. We stake our lives on it, but it's a subject that not even the Gallagher Academy can teach. When do you let your guard down? Who do you let in? And I knew at that moment, as I sat beside my mother, bathing in the warm spring light, that those were the questions a good spy never stops asking

No one would have ever guessed that seven of the world's most talented teenagers were coming to the Henley that day for an entirely different sort of lesson.

Hello, ladies," Joe Solomon said, but not before I snatched the piece of paper and crammed it in my mouth, which ordinarily would have been really great spy maneuvering except that Josh didn't use Evapopaper. "How's the lasagna?" Mr. Solomon asked, and I started to say something before I remembered that my mouth was...well...otherwise engaged.

"Good for him," Hale said. And then he stopped. There were four other people in the room, but Hale only looked at Kat, and something in his gaze burned her, froze her, made her want to run.

Aren't you going to introduce your little girlfriend to your mother?

Boys! Are they always this impossible? Do they always say cryptic, indecipherable things? (Note to self: work with Liz to adapt her boy-to-English translator into a more mobile form—like maybe a watch or necklace.)