Where Nothing Ill Can Dwell

Chapter 25 - Miranda

The swim had renewed my energy.

Well, correction. My hyper giddy state was more due to Ferdinand's kisses than the cool water of the springs. I'd taken a risk, but I'd proved Mom was wrong. He wasn't using me. He really did care about me. And that knowledge added an extra spring to my step and added to my determination to help him find his father.

Pooka trailed behind me, his stumpy tail wagging under his thick fur. Even he seemed to pick up on my happiness.

The familiar low rumble of snoring from down the hall confirmed that Mom had slept through everything and that my secret rendezvous with Ferdinand would remain a secret. I giggled. A week ago, I would've been terrified about sneaking around behind Mom's back and doing things she'd forbidden me to do. I'd always been the obedient daughter. Now, I'd learned the meaning of rebellion, and it wasn't as terrifying as I'd been brought up to believe. It actually felt good to break the rules sometimes.

Especially when it involved Ferdinand.

I decided it was the perfect time to try hacking Mom's computer again. This time, I wouldn't let the video feed of Ferdinand distract me. I'd dive deeper into her files and wouldn't stop until I'd uncovered something about his father—past or present. I couldn't shake the feeling that Mom knew more than she was telling me, and the key to unlocking the mystery lay with him.

I sat down in her chair and started typing. It only took me a few minutes to break through the firewalls I'd penetrated the other night. I flew past the codes for the security system, the video camera feeds, the power controls. Those were all superficial files in the mainframe, things my mom wouldn't mind me finding. What I needed lay under deeper levels of security and might take me days to reach.

Five hours later, I'd built a program to continue my hack when I wasn't at the computer and loaded it into Mom's OS. It was a simple sort of spyware, one Mom wouldn't probably expect. Plus, since it had been loaded under her log in credentials, it was less likely to be discovered and quarantined by her virus scanning software. And if it worked, it would simplify my search. Whenever she accessed any secure files, that information would be sent to my tablet, allowing me access to them, too.

Pooka whimpered and nudged my leg. I'd been so busy at Mom's computer, I'd forgotten to feed him. I gave him an apologetic scratch behind the ears, activated the program, and logged out of the computer.

Please let this work, I prayed before carrying Pooka with me to the kitchen.

The fates must have been smiling on me, for no sooner had I'd poured some kibble into Pooka's bowl, I realized how quiet the compound was. Too quiet. The resonant snores from down the hall had ceased.

My heart kicked into overdrive, and sweat slicked my palms. Mom was awake!

Footsteps came closer and closer to the kitchen.

How long had she been awake? Did she know what I'd done?

This was the downside to disobedience—that sickening feeling in the center of my gut that I was in deep trouble.

I searched the room for an excuse to be up at this hour and dashed to the kettle. Thirty seconds later when the kitchen door opened, the water was already at a nice rolling bubble.

A yawn split Mom's face as she walked in. She froze, her mouth still wide open, when she saw me. "What are you up to?"

"Pooka was hungry, and I wanted a cup of tea before bed." The kettle whistled to confirm my story, and I poured some hot water into a mug.