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RYANDALTON

wore a gray leotard of sorts, with an “encounter suit” worn
underneath.
Their dad had been caught between anger, worry, and be-
trayal. It didn’t help that they’d had to rush o¤, giving Callie
long enough to promise an explanation. To insist she hadn’t
betrayed them.
Asha hadn’t wanted her to come. As the agent of an invading
enemy, she was a tactical liability. The twins had overruled her.
Like it or not, Callie had valuable knowledge.
John veered onto Fred’s mile-long driveway.
“We should stop here,” Callie said. “By now, they know the
other attacks failed. They’ll be watching for threats.”
John braked. “The truck has surveillance countermeasures.”
“It won’t be enough,” Callie said. “I’m sorry, but my future
is a thousand years from now. They have tech that would seem
like magic to you. My armor can create a dampening ‡eld to
mask our approach.”
Valentine sco¤ed. “You’re not getting your armor back.”
“That armor may mean the di¤erence between saving Fred
and losing him,” Callie said. “I’m not your enemy, Valentine.
You know me.”
Malcolm bristled. “We know Callie de la Vega, a journalist
from the Dominican Republic. Not a spy from the future.”
Callie stared down at her lap. Malcolm could see her ‡ghting
to contain tears.
“Callie Gilbert,” she whispered.
“What?” Malcolm said.
Swallowing, she looked up at him. Her eyes still glistened
and her voice was thick, but it came out strong.
“Gilbert. Callie Gilbert,” she said. “That’s my name.”

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