Chapter 1

CAMMIE, Age 12

3 hours after the bell signals the end of Cammie's first day at the Gallagher Academy…

"Cammie," my mom said, her tone quickly changing from playful to serious. My face fell a little at the sound of her no-nonsense voice. I recognized this voice. I've heard it multiple times before, one of which being about whether or not I'd attend the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women, the school that my mom is currently working at as the headmistress. That conversation quickly turned into a debate as my mom tried to convince me not to enroll while I made a counterargument to explain why I should enroll. Eventually, she gave in, but not before making me promise not to get discouraged by its difficulty level.

We were just enjoying a nice family dinner in my mom's office at the Gallagher Academy when all of a sudden, my mom decided to make a grave announcement. I wasn't sure why she waited to tell me this. I've been here since my first day of school ended, which was just a few hours ago. I was anxious to tell her all about the people I'd met, the classes I'd sat through, the halls I'd explored. Well, not about all the halls I'd explored.

Allow me to explain. All around the mansion, I discovered all kinds of secret passageways hidden within the walls of this school. By the looks of the dusty corridors and the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, I guessed that no one had stumbled upon those hidden halls in a long time, which made me want to keep them to myself. Having my own personal hiding places was oddly appealing to me at the time.

Now, my mom obviously had something that she wanted to share with me. I let my mind wonder what that something was until she continued in her serious voice, "There's something that I need to tell you, but I need you to act mature about this… new development."

I snorted, "Mom, I'm almost 13 years old. I'm pretty sure I'm mature enough to handle whatever you want to tell me."

She didn't smile at the hint of humor in my voice. Not even a little. She simply continued talking, almost as if I hadn't said a word, "Do you remember the mission your father was sent on about 6 months ago?"

I nodded my head. Of course I remembered. Whenever my dad left on a mission, I would throw a fit and beg him to stay home, to stay safe with me and my mom. That never stopped him from taking off after reassuring me that he'd be alright, giving my mom a quick goodbye kiss, which I always looked away from, and wishing us both farewell.

At the mention of my dad on his latest mission, I automatically imagined the worst possible scenario I could come up with that could've occurred while he was doing his job, "Is he okay? Did he get caught? What happened to him?" I was starting to get impatient. Why didn't my mom bring up anything about my dad's whereabouts earlier?

She sighed and muttered, "I wish," before resuming her train of thought, "It's worse than that. Today, I got a phone call from the CIA Director while you were in class. He said… he said that‒" My mom choked back a sob. I paled, suddenly feeling very uneasy.

"What did he say?" I questioned hesitantly, my voice a lot quieter than it was a few seconds ago. I was almost too afraid to confirm what my mom must be trying to say to me.

My mom sucked in a deep breath and spoke with a little more conviction, "He said that your dad was recently proclaimed KIA."

I quickly leaned back in my seat, having difficulty processing this new bit of information. He can't possibly be dead. My dad was probably the greatest spy the CIA had ever seen. He's succeeded on more missions than any other agent in the history of the CIA, and he was still at the beginning of his career. He couldn't just die.

From the look on my mom's face, I could tell that she's having trouble digesting the thought of him being dead, too. I knew then that she wouldn't lie about something like this. I wish she'd lied. It'd be easier to deal with.

My mom cleared her throat. I could tell that she was trying to hold back more tears, and that the minute I left the room, she'd let the tears fall. It was unnerving. I've never seen my mom so close to tears before.

"Cammie," she murmured cautiously, "Do you want to help me plan the funeral?"

I shook my head and got up from my seat. I no longer had much of an appetite, and my mom's cooking wasn't exactly helping. I needed some alone time to think through this‒as my mom described it‒"new development."

She nodded understandingly and got up from her seat as well to walk me to the door. Glancing at me, she asked if I'd be alright. After a minute of pondering my answer, I simply nodded and left my mom to mourn the loss of my dad alone. Apparently, we both were in desperate need of some alone time.

As I walked down the hall toward the nearest secret passageway I had recently discovered, I imagined all the distractions my mom would come up with to keep her mind on tasks at hand and away from the death of her husband, planning the funeral being one of them. That's how my mom typically got over things‒by finding things to keep her busy.

I, on the other hand, prefer to reflect on the situation and plan a course of action to follow it. Sitting around with distractions swarming me doesn't really help me keep my mind off of an unpleasant topic.

"Cammie, there you are!" I heard from across the nearly empty corridor. I looked up to see none other than Tina Walters, the unofficial school gossip queen, or at least, in the seventh grade. I barely knew the girl, but already I could tell that she has the tendency to talk a lot, usually about things that people could care less about. Thank goodness I only had one class with her, which is Culture and Assimilation.

I silently groaned. The last thing I wanted to do right now was listen as Tina spouted more gossip. I'm pretty sure that at least half of the things she said were false. Seriously, I wonder where she gets all of her "facts" from. Maybe her mom works for a big gossip magazine or something. I wouldn't know since all she likes to talk about is what's going on in other people's lives. She never volunteered information about herself, or at least, during all the time that I've known her, which isn't really that long. I'm going to guess that that's probably why she seems so unwilling to tell me about herself, but who knows?

"Hi Tina, how has your day been?" I asked politely. We learned about basic manners today in our Culture and Assimilation class, so I decided that I might as well use this new knowledge. Madame Dabney, the teacher for our class, would be proud, I'm sure.

Tina smiled at me, obviously realizing what I was practicing. "My day's been fantastic! Thanks for asking," she winked at that remark as a signal that she was clearly onto me. I laughed, but it sounded forced. I cleared my throat, hoping that Tina wouldn't notice a difference between how I acted earlier and how I'm acting now.

To my relief, she carried on talking without saying a word about how I'd been acting since she caught me in the hall, "So Cammie, did you hear about how Dr. Fibs accidentally set a classroom desk on fire last period, or that Professor Buckingham is considering retirement soon? How about the fact that Mr. Moskowitz secretly enjoys going swimming in his free time, or that Mr. Smith gets plastic surgery after every school year so that he can look like a totally new person? Ooh, did you know that the headmistress recently got a phone call from the CIA Director? I'm not sure what that was all about‒"

I shook my head at Tina, hoping to end our chat as soon as possible so that I could go saunter off to a secret passageway, and lied, "No, I didn't know about all of that, but I guess I'm not really that surprised." If all those things she said were even true, that is. How'd she even know about my mom's phone conversation with the CIA Director?

She smiled, "I'm pretty sure they're right. My mom writes a gossip column in a major metropolitan newspaper that I get a lot of my information from." Wow, my guess wasn't too far from the actual truth.

"That's really cool," I told her while I racked my brain for an excuse to leave this conversation that wouldn't sound rude.

At that moment, one of my roommates, and now my savior, walked over to us and said, "Cammie, where have you been? You were supposed to help me unpack the rest of my stuff!" I was relieved for the chance to escape. Bex Baxter, the roommate of mine that just saved me from Tina's endless gossip comments, knew how to lie with ease. Her real name is actually Rebecca, but I wouldn't call her that if I were you. She absolutely hates being called that name.

I smiled sheepishly, trying to play along, "Sorry, Bex. I totally forgot about that. Do you still have things that need to be unpacked? I can help you now."

Her immediate response was, "Of course I do! I came from London, and there's a bunch of stuff that I haven't even touched yet since I got to this school." Another thing you should know about Bex is that she's British and that both of her parents work for the MI6. It's a pretty big deal.

"Oh, that's too bad," Tina responded. "Cammie and I were just getting into a really interesting conversation about the latest gossip and how‒"

Bex suddenly grabbed one of my arms and hauled me away from Tina, saying, "Sorry Tina, we can't talk long. I've got a lot of unpacking to do!" With that, we were racing down the halls toward the room we shared with another girl that was super shy, but also super smart. Her preferred name's Liz Sutton, but most of the teachers call her by her given name, Elizabeth, which may irritate her a little, but not nearly as much as when teachers call Bex by Rebecca. I shuddered at the thought of someone making that mistake.

Bex reached for the doorknob that led to our shared room and quickly twisted it open. I flew into the room before Bex, hoping to put some more distance between Tina and I, if possible. It's not that Tina is a bad person. It's just that I get strangely uncomfortable around her. Maybe I'm not the only one.

Liz greeted us as we walked passed her without looking up from her computer screen. I collapsed on my bed and sighed contentedly. Bex and Liz, who were sitting on their own beds, laughed at the sight of me. I turned to smile at Bex, "Thanks for rescuing me back there. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't showed up to drag me away from Tina."

Bex waved my thanks away and simply said, "It was nothing."

Peaked with a sense of curiosity, Liz suddenly questioned, "What happened with Tina?" I wasn't surprised that she was wondering about what just occurred a few minutes ago. If I were her, I'd like to find out what was going on, too.

I saw Bex roll her eyes from her bed before laying flat on her back and giving a brief description of what just took place a few halls away from our dorm. Liz listened carefully to everything Bex had to say as I gradually zoned out, my eyes shutting and my mind drifting to old memories of me and my dad that were painful to revisit, but not unbearable.

I must have fallen asleep while thinking about my dad because when I opened my eyes again, a few rays of light shone through the window, despite the curtains Liz had hung up the other day, to signal that it was early morning. I stood up quietly and glanced down at what I was wearing. From the rumpled uniform I was currently dressed in, I could tell that I had gone to bed in what I was wearing to school yesterday.

This is just great. That was the only uniform I had for the Gallagher Academy. I sighed and tried to smooth down my hair so it was less tangled. After realizing that that wasn't an effective way of untangling my hair, I gave up and looked around the room until my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room.

I ran through the events of my first day of school and suddenly remembered the depressing news my mom had delivered to me. I quickly sat back down on the edge of my bed, thoughts of my dad filling my mind once again

Even though it was still 1:15 in the morning, I didn't want to go back to sleep. It'd be too hard to fall asleep again after the realization that my dad was gone, and I had absolutely no idea how he died or what happened while he was on the mission that led to his death.

Then a thought suddenly occurred to me. Why don't I go and find out about my dad's death? What's stopping me from leaving right this very moment?

Filled with a new purpose, I swiftly moved around the room, trying to pack a few necessary supplies that I'd need for my trip to find answers that I deserved to know. I remained as quick and quiet as possible as I found things that would undoubtedly be useful to me on my little mission, stuff like a light backpack, a handful of snacks and drinks, a flashlight with extra batteries, a stack of extra clothing, a dozen daggers, a box of matches, a couple of handguns, a load of cash, and an advanced map with an accompanying compass. I'd much rather bring a GPS device, but those could easily be tracked, and I didn't want anyone to find me until after I had my answers.

With my backpack slung over my shoulders, I quietly left the room, but not before scribbling a short note to Bex and Liz about where I was going and what I'd be doing. They'd find it taped to my bedpost when they woke up.

I stuck to the shadows as much as possible and avoided all of the security cameras, which I knew were placed in various corners of the mansion. It was almost too easy to get to the secret passageway that I knew led directly outside the Gallagher Academy. Sometimes, wandering the halls aimlessly and uncovering secret passageways carefully placed around the large building came in handy.

I glanced back once at the Gallagher Academy that I was leaving for‒well, hopefully not too long of a time‒before walking through the hidden exit and sealing it behind me with a soft thud that echoed in the early day.

Hey there FanFiction readers! This is the first chapter of my first FanFiction, and I'm so glad to finally have it posted! Please give me some feedback, even if it's negative. Just don't judge too harshly because it is my first FanFiction. Thanks so much for giving this FanFiction a chance!

-Sky