I laugh. It sounds too full of air. “What do you think of figuring out who that mole is?” I turn and grab a couple controllers, handing her one. Malia’s going to have to play one of myShadow Heroescharacters since we’re logged in on my account, but since we’re mostly going to be doing surveillance, it won’t be a big deal.
She pats the cushion next to her. “Let’s get this guy.”
I drop down and pat her knee. “Could be a girl.”
“Touché.”
We’re quiet as I log on and we both survey who’s on the game. It’s a comfortable silence, though, no different from when we’re logged on together for missions. We don’t always have to fill the quiet. I snicker at the “Happy Valentine’s Day” banner one of our teammates has hung up in the safehouse. There’s also several heart-shaped boxes of chocolate on the dining room table.
“Felicity,” Malia and I say together, and then laugh. She’s a mom in her thirties who has two toddlers at home and tells us allthe time that she shouldn’t be staying up late to play—and then does anyway. She’s also clearly the mother of our whole group. We make our way over to the table, find the boxes with our names on them, and eat a couple chocolates so Felicity will know we appreciated her thoughtfulness.
“You know what I thought about earlier while you were watching that guy in the diner?” Malia asks as our characters take a seat on a bench across from the British Embassy. “What if the mole is an NPC? It could be a game obstacle, rather than another player tasked with thwarting our mission.”
I glance over at her and nod. “I could see that. It would explain why it’s been so difficult for any of us to figure it out. We’ve only been watching other players.”
We both go quiet as someone leaves the embassy. “Tail them, just to see?” Malia asks.
“Yeah. You take this one, though. I’ll wait for another one.”
“Good idea.”
She nudges me with her shoulder as she gets up from the bench and follows the character in a dark pantsuit down the street. The character of mine she’s using is a short guy that’s a little rat-like.
“This is fun. Playing together.” She leaves her shoulder resting against mine.
“Like we do all the time?” I tease, bumping her back. I don’t move my shoulder either.
“I meant in the same place,” she says with an embarrassed laugh. “Oh, headsets. In case one of our marks talks to someone?”
“Oh, right.” I hop up and grab a couple from the TV stand. When I hand Malia hers, she drops it in her lap, and so I do too. We only need them just in case, and I don’t want to interrupt the cozy vibe we have.
But she’s right about something. Thisisfun. “We should do it more.” It comes out like a question. “Play together in the same place.”
She looks over at me and nods enthusiastically. “We should.” She holds my gaze, her expression bright. I really like her smile. It makes her whole face sparkle.
The timer on the oven beeps in the kitchen, ending the moment. I pull my gaze reluctantly from her and shift to get the pizza. “Watch my screen for me,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”
“You got it.”
I have to make two trips into the game room. One with the pizza and plates, and another trip with napkins and drinks for us both.
“So, a Range Rover?” I say once we’ve both taken a couple bites of pizza.
She gives a dry chuckle and shakes her head. “I should stop trying to be so ostentatious, trying to prove something to them when they’re never going to change their minds. I mean, it’s like they think Vire is some struggling startup. I guess I kind of get that my parents don’t understand—all they know is farming—but Skye frustrates me. It’s part of a billion-dollar tech corporation, and I run the—I mean, I’m in charge of stuff. I’m high up. You know? Why does she always have to worry just because she’s a big sister?”
Malia’s flustered, and she blows out a breath. I set a hand on her knee again. I get exactly how exasperating it is to have your family constantly concerned about your well-being just because they don’t understand something about your life.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Malia,” I reassure her.
“Yeah, I know. Sorry.” She leans her head on my shoulder, and for a second I lean mine on top of hers. She relaxes.
“When Ivy and I were dating, Carlie was terrified of how fast we were moving. And she turned out to be right, but I hated that she didn’t trust me to figure stuff out by myself. She gets it about my job, but sometimes she still treats me like the little brother even thoughI’mthe one that’s older.”
“It’s probably a sister thing.” Malia straightens away from me and leans forward, squinting at the screen. The room isn’t huge, and we’re not that far away from it, so I’m guessing this is a concentration squint as she follows the embassy worker. “Skye is the same way.”
“Hence the fancy condo and flashy car.”
“And regular expensive vacations.” She shrugs. “I need to get over it. I can’t control what they think.”
