Page 99 of Keeping Kasey
I spend the next few hours hacking my own program.
Getting into the program itself isn’t the problem, but accessing the names of each person who has ever used it isn’t as easy as exporting a file.
My expertise and Mason’s personal touches to the coding make breaking in a challenge, and it’s oddly validating to know evenIhave a hard time accessing it. I’m not sure if my ability to hack it proves I’m better or worse at what I do, and it’s a paradox I avoid solving.
I’m making quick progress, and I’m nearly there when Damon’s phone rings.
“What’s up?” he says as a greeting. “Okay. Yeah, will do. See you later.”
His words come at the same time my phone buzzes.
Logan:Need to bail on lunch. Ford is awake and needs to see me urgently. I’ll make it up to you tonight.
“That was James,” Damon says. “He and Logan are heading to the hospital to see Ford. I guess he’s conscious and needs to talk to them. Logan’s demanding you take an hour-long break.”
Anxiety spikes through me with a physical force. My stomach churns, my heart races, and my hands sweat so much I have to wipe them on my pants.
What could Ford possibly have to tell them so urgently?
The answer hovers at the forefront of my mind.
The likelihood is too low.
Right?
“Come on,” Damon calls with an outstretched hand. I hadn’t even noticed him walk over to me. “Let’s grab something to eat.”
I take his hand in a daze, my mind spiraling for the millionth time with worst-case scenarios.
We’re walking down the hall when I come to the conclusion that my safest bet is to get into the program as soon as I can.
The longer I wait, the greater the chance I’ll get caught before I can get Logan the list.
Which means this break cannot happen.
“Damon, I feel fine. I’d rather work and leave early.”
“Not happening, Goldie.”
I stop walking. “I’m serious. I’m not hungry, and I want to work.”
He stops a few feet ahead of me, and the stony determination does not bode well for me.
“Logan gave a direct order. Take it up with him, but until he tells me differently, we’re going to the cafeteria to get something to eat.” Damon turns to keep walking. “You can either walk, or I’ll drag you.”
I know he means it by the warning glance he shoots me, so I start walking again, and my mind works to devise an alternative solution.
What I come up with is not only risky but cruel.
“The cafeteria is really crowded this time of day, and it’ll give me a headache. Can we at least eat in Logan’s office?”
Damon contemplates that, not seeming to pick up on my urgency—thankfully.
“I don’t see why not. But you’re not allowed to work on his computer.”
I roll my eyes, playing along with the excuse. “Whatever.”
Twenty grueling minutes later, we’re finally sitting in Logan’s office, and I’m running out of time.
