Agents of the Glass by Michael D. Beil

Author:Michael D. Beil
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2016-09-13T04:00:00+00:00

Andy’s heart threatened to burst right through his ribs, but somehow he managed not to show how freaked out he was by Winter’s casual remark.

“What do you mean?” he asked. A fast-motion film ran through his head, narrated by Winter’s voice:

I know who you are.

I know who you’re working for.

I know what you’re trying to do.

I know all about the Agents.

I know what they told you about me.

I know…

“I know it was you…that day at the bank. You’re the one who almost got killed and then gave the money back.”

From the confident look in her eyes, Andy knew that there was no point in denying it.

“How did you find out? The police weren’t supposed to tell anyone. That was part of the deal.”

“It wasn’t the police. I just put two and two together. The bandage on your head. New school, everybody being super nice to you. The bank never said who returned the money, but they did release a picture of the backpack, and guess what? It’s the same one you have.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” Andy asked.

“I don’t understand why you’re being so…humble about it all.”

“Because I didn’t really do anything except almost get killed and give back something that didn’t belong to me in the first place.”

“Well, that’s better than actually getting killed, isn’t it? I heard there was a homeless guy who disappeared, like it was a magic trick. Kablooey and—pffft—he’s gone!”

“It’s not funny,” said Andy, realizing for the first time that Winter’s name was perfect for her: She was cold as January in New Hampshire, as his mom would say. “Geez. Maybe he was homeless, but that was a person. He was somebody’s friend. Maybe even somebody’s brother. He died. I don’t think we should be joking about that.”

He thought for a moment that he had made her mad by criticizing her, but she just laughed it off. “Oh, right. Sorry. Sometimes, I just blurt out stuff like that without thinking. No, you’re absolutely right. I probably shouldn’t do it. I mean, I definitely shouldn’t.”

She didn’t sound convincing at all to Andy.

“Anyway, back to you and the money. I mean, why? What made you want to give it back? You’re not, like, filthy rich, are you?”

“Psshhht. No. Definitely not.”

“Then…I don’t get it. I’m trying to understand, really, I am.”

Andy couldn’t help noticing the expression of utter confusion on her face at that moment. The thought of doing something that had no direct benefit to her was completely foreign to her.

“You sound like my dad,” he said. And then he did something unusual: He lied. Or, as he would tell Silas later, he merely “stretched the truth” about his father, letting Winter believe that the Howard Twopenny she heard on the radio was the same person as Howard Llewellyn. “He doesn’t get it, either. After I gave the money back, he cut off my allowance completely. He won’t even give me money for lunch. Luckily, my mom sneaks it into my backpack when he isn’t around.

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