“Ginger suits you,” I said as soon as the front door was closed.
“I look like Lindsay Lohan,” he groused, then plopped down on a couch. “The senator is squirming in his office, by the way.”
“You’re still going to work?” I asked.
Simon was grading papers back at school. Craig and I were alone. It felt weird, like he was a stranger. Maybe it was the disguise, but I didn’t think so.
“I have to,” he replied. “Can’t let him know that I know anything, even though he probably suspects it.”
I nodded. He nodded. I nodded some more. My skin was crawling. What had happened to us?
“So, now what?” I asked.
He snapped his fingers. “Right. That’s why I’m here,” he said. “We need to put the nail in the coffin.”
I cringed. “But I’m not really dead.”
He sighed. Out of exasperation? Probably. “Not your coffin; the senator’s. So long as he’s around, there’s always the danger that the experiment will continue.” He grinned. “And one of you is more than plenty; an army would simply be overkill.”