Page 93 of The Art of Exiley

He laughs. “You’re right. I’d do the same. Oh, wouldn’t I do the same.”

After showering, I use Georgie’s computer to call Kor. I haven’t been in touch with anyone since the kidnapping revelation. I’m angry at my mom and unsure how to interact with Kor without confronting him, but I need to confirm that they for sure have Hypatia, and if so, where they might be keeping her.

I know that the Families have many facilities around the city—connections with the Met, Columbia University, and the United Nations, but Mom specifically said that Hypatia is at a medical facility. I need more leads.

Except the call is a whopping failure. Kor debriefs me, like usual. But I awkwardly freeze up and neglect to ask any of the questions I need to ask. Instead I stare at him, fixated on wondering how this person that I thought I knew so well could possibly be capable of abducting a helpless preteen girl.

The worst part is that it doesn’t seem impossible. Kor has always been so single-minded in pursuing what he wants.

I’m barely paying attention as he tells me about a performance he did for a children’s cancer charity. “It was weird doing a show without you,” he tells me, and there’s so much tenderness in his familiar eyes.

I feel like I need a system reboot so that everything can start to make sense, and instead of probing for information, I make excuses to sign off quickly.

When I call to Georgie that I’m finished, she comes in and quietly gets to work as opposed to pulling me into her normal fizzy chitchat. I’m pretty sure she’s withdrawn because of the whole Rafe thing. I should explain it to her now. Explain our need for non-suspicious collaboration and that I’m not actually dating the guy who treats her like dog poop on his shoe.

I start talking. “So, I have an idea about how to get off the island—”

She whips her head to look at me. “Have you found out where Hypatia is?” She looks so eager. So worried.

I sigh as I shake my head, sickened with myself. Hypatia is in danger, andI’m her best chance of rescue. But I can’t even figure out how to have a useful phone call with my own family. Some spy I turned out to be.

“Is there any way I can help?”

I’m about to thank her and decline politely, but then I stop and think twice.

Georgie has dropped enough hints for me to understand that her online activities are not, to say, strictly legal. I don’t know if it’s impolite to ask your friend to hack someone for you, but I decide to give it a shot.

“Uh, theoretically, would you be able to find a place that I know exists if I don’t know where?”

She thinks for less than three seconds, then says, “Know anyone who is likely to go there? Theoretically, of course.”

Mom had said that all the New York members of the Chamber are involved in whatever is going on, so that gives me some options. “Yes.”

“Oh, then this will be easy peasy. Choose whoever is most likely to open a link from you on their phone without any suspicion.” She’s already clacking away at her keyboard, flitting between monitors.

Kor and Mom would both be suspicious if I sent them a random message since they know I don’t have phone access. But Alfie probably wouldn’t think too hard about it.

“Got any insulting memes?” I ask her.

Georgie sits up straight. “Do I have any insulting memes?” She rubs her hands together gleefully. “Let me introduce you to my arsenal.”

For just a moment, she reminds me so much of Izzy that I almost feel as if I’m cheating on Izzy with a new best friend.

We spend a little too much time giggling at ridiculously captioned classical paintings and grumpy cats delivering Shakespearean insults. I’m glad to know that despite Georgie having been isolated from most of provincial society for so many years, she’s still acquainted with the best parts of the internet.

We settle on a picture of the Last Supper, but everyone at the table is giving the middle finger.

Georgie messages Alfie from her computer with my cloned number.

Saw this and thought of you.With an attached link to the meme.

Moments later he replies with a string of middle finger emojis.

“And… we’re in,” Georgie says triumphantly. “Oh, this doofus has his location services turned on, so we don’t even have to wait to see where he goes. I can pull up where he’s been for the past week.”Clack, clack, clack.“Jeez, aren’t these people supposed to be, like, super secret? They need way better digital security protocols.” She starts to tag locations on a map on her screen. “So, what am I looking for?”

“A place that could house a covert medical facility? I’m not exactly sure.”

“Say you haven’t tracked someone before without saying you haven’t tracked someone before,” she jokes dryly. “We’ll want to rule out anywhere he has reason to visit on a regular basis and see what’s left.” As she works, Georgie talks through what she’s doing. She pairs his location data with other information from his phone to easily establish what can be ignored: his apartment, gym, school, girlfriend’s place, favorite take-out spots.

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