“Goodmorning,”Packstonsays.It’sfour a.m. inLangley, andPackston’svoice sounds like he either hasn’t been awake long or hasn’t talked at all since he woke.
“Sorryto wake you so early,”Isay so he knows my comms are working.
“Idon’t know what you’re talking about.I’malways upthis early.”
“Ofcourse you are,”Isay, even though we both know it’s not true.
I’mnot sure he even heard me, though, because at the same time,Ledgeris saying, “Heyyy,Kella!Goodmorning!Nothinglike rising before the sun, huh?”ThenLedgerturns to me and says, “Let’sgo make history.”
Iknow from working withLedgera year and a half ago that it’s what he says before embarking on any mission.Ismile at him, knowing thatI’llbe the one winning this particular mission, and it’s always the winner who writes the history.SoIsay, “I’llbring the pen.”
ItellPackstonthatI’mgoing radio silent as we put on our backpacks and cross the street to the gallery.Westep into a small lobby where nine people are standing, already waiting for the tour.Sixare obvious tourists, plus a mom with two small children who look local.Atall man with light brown skin and natural curls that are long and sticking out in every direction points atLedgerand me with both hands. “Youhere for the tour?”
Wenod, and he says, “Ourprinter is on the fritz, so ifIcouldIget you to come up and write your names on your name tag, we’ll get started soon.”
I’mcloser, soIwalk up to the counter where a package of peel-and-stick name tags sits next to a blackSharpie.IwriteShaunaon one of them and stick it to my shirt.ThenIwriteAccounton the other one, peel off the back, then go over toLedgerand stick it to his shirt.Ipat his very firm chest twice, then say, “Ifanyone asks, tell them your last name isBook.”Ledgercan drive me nuts at times, but he’s also rather fun to mess with.
“Haha. ‘AccountBook,’ because my name isLedger.Soclever.”Hewalks over to the desk with the name badges, andIfigure he’s making himself a new one.Probablywith the nameLincoln, sinceI’mpretty sure that’s his favorite cover name.Butwhen he turns around with a name badge in his hand, he sticks it on my shirt, coveringShauna.Ilook down to see he’s scrawledStainlesson it.
“Ifanyone asks, don’t tell them your last name is ‘Steele’ or you’ll blow your cover.”
Idon’t have time to say any kind of comeback before the man with the wild curls starts talking. “Welcome, everyone.I’mKieran, andI’llbe your tour guide today.Itlooks like we’ve got a fun group.We’vegot,” and he starts reading off the names of everyone in the group, having to squint or cock his head with a couple of them to decipher their handwriting.Thenhe gets to me andLedgerand says, “Andhere, we’ve got… ‘Account’ and ‘Stainless?’”Heglances at our faces like he’s trying to confirm that he read them right.
“Yeah, our parents are a little weird,”Ledgersays.
Inod. “Imean, they’d have to be to have two kids who are so vastly”—Imotion between me andLedger— “different from each other.”
“Well, it was really only one of our parents who was weird.”Heputs a hand beside his mouth like he’s attempting to be discreet, then mouths in about as exaggerated of a way as possible,Ourdad.Thenhe puts his arm around my shoulders and gives me a brotherly one-armed hug. “AndStainless, here, is the spitting imageof our dad.Noone can look at her without saying, ‘Iknow exactly who your daddy is.’”
Ibristle and shrug his arm off my shoulder.ThenItake a slow, deep breath.Whatwas that he said yesterday about an insult only working if it is a direct hit?Thisone hits the bull’s eye, and he doesn’t even have the slightest clue that he aimed at a target.
Keiranleads us all into the first room, which has paintings on all the walls.It’sthe “ImpressionistInstagram” room, as our tour guide refers to it.Ledgermotions at a painting of a woman sitting by a table, looking like she’s either really bored or just disappointed about the way her life has gone. “Oh, look— there’s a painting of you!”BeforeI’vehad a chance to give either a courtesy laugh or a retort, his eyes have landed on me and he sees whatever expression resides on my face after his comment about my “dad.”Heleans in and asks in a quiet voice, “Iseverything okay?”Hishead is tilted to the side a bit and his eyebrows are drawn together.
Inod. “Justfine.”Thenin a voice loud enough for everyone to hear,Iask “DidMonetget royalties for inventing the original filter?”Notthe greatest question,Iknow, butIcouldn’t think of another quickly enough, and it seems like one our tour guide would appreciate.
Itry to ignoreLedger’sgaze on me asKeiransays, “Unfortunately, no.Buthe’s definitely rolling in ‘exposure’ currency, which is worth exactly zero at the bank.Legendhas it, though, that he’s still collecting likes in the afterlife.”
Ipretend to look around while trying to keep my mind on how, exactly,I’mgoing to disable security on thetapestry and how uncomfortable it feels to see a genuinely concerned look onLedger’sface whenIknow the look is because of me.That’snot how we interact.Butit still manages to take me back to that small moment in time a year and a half ago when it was how we interacted.Weknow from experience, though, that spies can’t date spies.Itdoesn’t work for so many reasons.
Itespecially doesn’t work for me.Norelationships ever do.
ThenKieranleads us into the “SculptureSelfie” room, where we all gaze at a bunch of marble “influencers” frozen in time.
Packstonhasn’t said a word in my ear since we started our mission.Notthat he needs to, but he usually likes doing a running commentary.I’mabout to check to see if my earpiece is actually working, but thenIhear something thatI’mpretty sure is soft snoring.
“Andthis is theTapestryRoom,”Kieransays as we all file into the next area. “Alsoknown as the ‘ThreadedViews’Room, asIlike to call it.Takea look around, and you’ll see ones fromGreecetoGreenland, from theRenaissance‘like and subscribe’ period to up all the way to nineteen ninety-nine.We’dappreciate it if you didn’t touch any of them because their historical updates are still buffering.”
Kieranwalks just beside the tapestry that we are here for, and my heart rate picks up.It’sabout two feet wide by five feet long, and it’s mounted on the wall inside a clear case.Hemotions to it and says, “Thispiece is calledThreadsofAccord, andIbet you’re wonderingwhy you couldn’t touch it if you wanted to.It’sthe most expensive piece in the whole gallery.Worthtwo-point-five millionEuros.”Heemphasizes each word, then pauses to give everyone a moment to gasp at its worth before he continues.
“Theclear case it’s in keeps it protected from the elements.Likelight, air pollution, andyour hands.Seethose fingerprints all over your cell phone?Yeah, we don’t want those on our tapestries.Sothis one is all safe and locked up inside its little home.Italso has an alarm that will go off if it tries to leave home, which is pretty much just like it was for me whenIleft for college.Infact, there are rumors that the gallery went to my mamma and recorded her wail to use as the alarm sound.SoI’dappreciate it if you didn’t bump it or do anything to set it off.”Hegives an exaggerated shudder.
“Thisis the pièce de résistance of ourTrustMe,I’maTapestrycollection.Whatyou’re looking at, ladies and gentlemen, is not just a piece of fabric, but a historical group chat between two rival factions who decided to swipe right on peace.Observethe intricate patterns—each thread is a message, each color a status update, showing how their lives got so entangled that they could no longer even remember what the feud was about in the first place.
“Now, the centerpiece of it, this handshake here, is the original ‘no hard feelings’ emoji.Andif you squint and cock your head just right, you might see the fine print in the corner that says, ‘Termsand conditions may apply, including but not limited to, annual potluck dinners and mandatory trust falls at team-building retreats.’Truly, thistapestry teaches us that trust is the foundation of any great reconciliation.”
Ledgershifts his weight uncomfortably, andIknow he’s thinking about the lost trust between us.Rightnow, though, my mind is one hundred percent on getting past the security on that box soIcan place the tracker.
Asthe last few people exit the room to followKeiranto the “CubistClickbait” room,Itake off my backpack and say toLedger, “Okay, you guard the door andI’lldisable the security.”
