Sleep every chance you get. Eat every chance you get. Those were two of the many lessons that Kat learned at her father’s knee and her uncle’s table.

The older generation sat looking at the younger, and Kat wondered exactly when and how the baton had been passed. She wanted to know if it was too late to give it back.

Pain seared through me again-a hot, burning stab in my gut-and yet my body found strength I didn't know I had, correcting as I fell.

Life is classified. There is always so much that goes unsaid.

So I stepped away, reminding myself that when you're a spy, sometimes all you can do is go on. One foot in front of the other, wherever the narrow path might lead.

I think you’re freaked about what happened at Cambridge. I think it scared you." “I’ve been through worse, Bex,” I said, joining her on the lower stairs. “Way worse.” “Oh, not the attack.” Bex raised her finger in contradiction. “What happened before the attack. I think you saw the future. Which is kind of freaky when - two months ago - you didn’t think you were going to have one.

''Women of the Gallagher Academy, who comes here?" she asked. Just then, every girl at every table (even the newbies) stood and said in unison, "We are the sisters of Gillian." "Why do you come?" my mother asked. "To learn her skills. Honor her sword. And keep her secrets." "To what end do you work?" "To the cause of justice and light." "How long will you strive?" "For all the days of our lives," we finished and I felt a little like a character in one of my grandma's soap operas.