Revived (Cat Patrick)

wants to ask about the truth.
    Thankfully, I catch a break: Matt doesn’t ask.

ten
    “It’s only a long weekend,” Mason says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror as we barrel down Interstate 29 in the dark.
    “I know,” I say glumly. “But we weren’t supposed to leave until tomorrow. And wait—what do you mean by long weekend?”
    “I thought I told you that we’re staying until Monday night,” Mason says. “To ensure enough time for Wade’s test. We called the school and got you excused from Monday’s classes.”
    “No, you didn’t tell me that,” I mutter, turning backward in my seat and watching the lights of Omaha fade into the distance. I already regret telling Cassie and Mason about Nora because it gave them a reason to leave town tonight. Now I’m even more annoyed because I won’t get to see Audrey or Matt on Monday. “I’m not supposed to be on this trip.”
    “You weren’t supposed to be seen,” Cassie says without looking up from her computer. I’m surprised by her tone; she’s not usually so snappy. The worst part is that she’s right.
    “Why was Nora even in Omaha?” I mutter.
    “We checked her email,” Cassie says. “She’s staying with relatives. Something about a family reunion this weekend.”
    “Random,” I say, shaking my head. “What’s going to happen with her?”
    “Depends on quite a few variables,” Mason says, scratching his head.
    “Like?” I look at him expectantly.
    “Like whether or not she saw you. And if she did, whether she wrote it off as coincidence or actually believes you’re alive.”
    “And?”
    “And it depends on what she does with the information.”
    “If she goes public—” I begin.
    Cassie interrupts. “Then our thirty-year research study is over.”
    “But hasn’t this happened before?” I protest.
    “To my knowledge, it’s only happened one other time,” Cassie says.
    “Twice,” Mason corrects. “There was that one in Missouri.”
    “I meant that one. What was the other?”
    “Florida.”
    “Oh, right,” Cassie says before refocusing on her computer. It bugs me that she’s talking like she was part of the program back then. Recruited straight from college after the program had already started, Cassie’s younger than the other agents. At first she was assigned to the main lab, but her boss thought she’d be better in the field. So when Sydney left, Cassie was reassigned to us. But sometimes Cassie talks like she was with the Revive project from day one.
    “I believe that the protocol is watch and wait,” Cassie continues. “A team is monitoring Nora now. If she forgets it and moves on, then we will, too.”
    “And what if she doesn’t?” I ask.
    “Who knows what he’ll do at this point?” Mason mutters. Cassie shoots him a surprised look, which softens his tone.
    “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it,” he says in a way that makes me feel like he’s talking to himself more than to me or Cassie.
    “If Nora pursues this, will we have to move again?” I ask.
    “Probably,” Mason says honestly.
    And only right then, when the sick feeling creeps into my stomach, do I realize that I haven’t been faking it. I want to live in Omaha permanently. I genuinely like Audrey; my feelings for Matt are real.
    Only when I’m faced with the possibility of another move do I realize how much I want to dig in my heels.
    Only then do I realize just how much I want to stay.
    It’s after one AM when I begin to boot up my snail of a computer. I can’t very well take sleek spy technology to school, so, unlike the computers that Mason and Cassie get to use, I have a few-years-old laptop that’s as heavy as a boulder and as loud as an airplane on takeoff.
    Our small, independent hotel has a weak Internet signal, so between that and my grandma’s microprocessor it takes forever to get online. After it connects, I log in using my password, which Mason makes me change every month. When my IM program pops up, I check for Audrey’s username—QueenMcKean—to see whether she’s online. There’s no little green dot; she’s not.
    I sigh and switch over to my email account. I open a new message and begin typing Audrey so her address autofills.
To: [email protected]
Subject: random night
Hey Aud,
How’s this for weird: I’m writing from a hotel room in Kansas City. My parents were planning to come for the weekend and leave me alone in Omaha but, at the last minute, changed their minds. They must have watched