Beat the Odds

by Megan Atwood

  It hadn’t been hard to get a meeting with Steinberg. She’d called his office and pretended she worked for the school newspaper and wanted to write about renewable sources. The minute she’d said the name of Ana’s school, Steinberg had agreed to the meeting. If anyone doesn’t think money opens doors, they must not be looking very hard.

  After finding SolarStar’s floor on the lobby map, she took the elevator to the offices. Bright fluorescent lights, cubicles in the middle, and private offices lining the back wall. The whole area couldn’t have been more than her living room and dining room combined. Still, people walked quickly between cubicles, phones rang like crazy, and she heard the clacking of computer keys sounding through the whole place.

  Nobody was sitting at the front desk. Ana stood awkwardly by the desk for a second, then edged around to sneak a look at the computer. There was an appointment app on the screen. The entire 3:30–4:30 time block was highlighted in red and just said EarthWatch.

  Ana moved back in front of the desk before someone could notice her snooping. If Steinberg was in a meeting, maybe she could sneak into his office and plant the bug before he came back . . .

  She walked toward the back wall, where the private offices stood. There were only about five of them, and she spotted Steinberg’s name plate on the far left.

  Steinberg’s door was open but no one was in there, as she’d hoped. This was her chance. She slipped inside and mostly-closed the door behind her. Then she kneeled down beneath the desk and pressed the bug into the desk’s underside, lining it up with where the phone sat on top. Finally she took her recorder pen out of her pocket and stuck it in the penholder.

  She sat in one of the chairs, her heart pounding. No Steinberg yet. She began to look around the office, her body calming down. She could just leave right now, but she wanted to know more about this place and to meet this guy that the Benefactor was so interested in.

  Posters of wind turbines and solar panels covered the walls. Some framed photos too. Ana leaned toward the photo closest to her. It seemed to be a picture from a golf course. There was a middle-aged white guy—Steinberg, probably—with his arm around none other than Corinne Huffmann. The CEO of Huffmann Industries. Philip Davenport’s favorite client.

  Ana stiffened. Steinberg knew someone who was connected to Ana’s foster father. What were the odds of that? Maybe fairly good, since Philip had a lot of clients. But still—it made her uneasy. I’m only four degrees of separation from Len Steinberg. What if the Benefactor isn’t that far removed from me either? It wasn’t a comforting thought.

  Just then Steinberg himself breezed into the room. He froze when he saw Ana. The look on his face was partly blank surprise, partly a deeper alarm.

  Ana shot to her feet and pasted on her best fake smile. “Mr. Steinberg? I’m Ana Rivera, I’m here to interview you for the Kenwood School’s student newspaper. So sorry to barge into your office, but no one was at the front desk when I came in . . . ”

  The name registered. The alarm in his eyes faded. “Oh, yes—Ana. Welcome.” He shook her hand, then sat down. Ana sat back down too, still smiling. “So, you work for your school paper? We’ll take all the publicity we can get.”

  She nodded and took out her notebook. She actually did have some questions for him. “What do you people do?”

  Steinberg laughed. “Starting with the basics? All right. Well, we’re an environmental solutions company working to harness the Earth’s renewable resources to cover our energy needs.”

  Ana didn’t even write it down. She chose her words carefully. “Mr. Steinberg, I love the idea of that. But I read the same description on your website. What do you do?”

  He sat back and smiled. “OK then.” He grabbed a pen from his penholder and sweat started on Ana’s temples. It was the pen she’d planted.

  He rocked back on his chair. “We develop projects to help the earth, mostly using solar power.”

  So far, he didn’t seem to notice anything different about it. Ana had a hard time taking her eyes away.

  “For instance, we developed a generator runs on solar energy instead of kerosene, which is made from oil. Generators like this will help places around the world that need electricity but are too far away from cities. Or businesses that need backup generators—hospitals, for example. A generator that runs on the sun’s power will still when all the oil to make kerosene is gone.”

  “Impressive,” said Ana, and she meant it. “And . . . you do this all by yourselves?”

  “First we work with smaller groups, mostly think tanks. They come up with ideas for new projects. Then we get the funding and the manpower to make those projects possible.”

  “I . . . see.” Money and manpower. Maybe that was where Huffmann Industries came in? “So . . . what are you working on right now?”

  “As a matter of fact, we’ve just received a large grant that will help us create another new piece of technology.” He put the pen back, and Ana let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

  She cleared her throat and tried to concentrate. “What technology?”

  “We’re not ready to unveil it quite yet. Once we have a prototype—”

  “A prototype?”

  “A first model. We have to give every invention a test run. Then, if everything works well, we officially launch the new product. That’s when you’ll hear more about our current work.”

  He glanced down at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to cut this short. I have an important meeting to prep for. If you have follow-up questions, feel free to email me.” He stood up and Ana had no choice but to stand up too.

  She fumbled for the words. She couldn’t just leave. She still had so many questions. She blurted out, “What are you doing with Huffmann Industries?”

  It was been a poorly worded question. But it definitely got his attention.

  “What makes you think we’re working with Huffmann Industries?” His voice hardened ever so slightly.

  She pointed to the picture. “Oh, I saw this picture. That’s Corinne Huffmann. She’s—um—she was a speaker at my school . . .”

  Steinberg seemed to relax. “Oh, I see. That’s not business-related. Corinne and I went to school together. Sometimes we golf. She beats me every time.” He smiled again. Ana could tell she wouldn’t get more out of him.

  “Thanks for coming, Ana.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Steinberg. I’ve learned a lot.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Another package waited outside the front door. Another gift from the Benefactor, no doubt.

  The Davenports weren’t home from work yet. Izzy was spending the night at a friend’s house—something Ana encouraged her to do as often as possible. And none of the cleaning people were around. Ana had the house to herself. It felt a lot more comfortable when it was empty like this.

  TASK 4 COMPLETE

  36:00:00

  TASK 5

  Go to this house, 545 Maryland Avenue.

  A picture popped up: a fairly rundown house. A familiar-looking house. The house she had seen in the photo on locker 4277, back at Cleveland High School.

  Another picture of a pipe by the side of the house replaced the first picture.

  Use the snap cutter given to you to cut through this cast iron pipe.

  Ana’s stomach roiled. Everything she’d done so far had been sketchy—she knew that. But nothing was so damaging! She could ruin that girl’s house, and who knew what else?

  All the bugging, the lock picking . . . she’d half-convinced herself this was fun. An actual contest that was fun. But how could she possibly do this?

  She opened the package. A tool that looked like shears with chains at the end weighed heavy in her hands. This must be the snap cutter.

  She threw it into her trash can in disgust.

  There were some things she just wouldn’t do. She was not her foster dad. She would not hurt this person, whoever it was, for money. No matter what, she had to be true to herself. She had to be a rol
e model to Izzy.

  Forget this contest. She and Izzy would have to make it on their own.

  Ana grabbed her backpack and pulled out the jump drive that held her evidence. She wrapped her fingers around it and felt her resolve strengthen. She would give this to social services. And then she would take Izzy and the getaway money and run, before anyone could put them back in the system.

  She’d do it tomorrow. No, scratch that—the day after. Izzy was hanging out with a friend on Thursday night, and Ana had band practice every Thursday. So if Ana waited till then, she could grab Izzy and get out of town before the Davenports suspected they’d left. Thursday, then.

  There was only one thing she needed to do first: find out who this other girl was. And try to warn her that the Benefactor was trying to hurt her.

  *****

  Ana borrowed Izzy’s iPad. That way if the Benefactor was monitoring Ana’s computer or phone, he wouldn’t know what she was up to. Then she stepped into her giant closet, where Izzy hid from Philip so often. She closed the door behind her. What were the odds that the Benefactor had bothered to bug this part of her room? Who would put a camera inside a closet?

  If she was playing her cards right, the Benefactor couldn’t track her right now.

  She started looking for the girl from locker 4277.

  Someone had done a surprisingly good job of building Cleveland High School’s website. It looked sleek and almost professional. Ana had expected a low-budget vibe to match the school itself. But she was glad the website was so well designed. Using Izzy’s iPad, she clicked through the various tabs. Checked the team photos for all the girls’ sports. Scanned pictures from last spring’s choir concert. Skimmed a PDF of the latest edition of the school newspaper, looking for more photos . . . wait. There was the girl, in a tiny thumbnail-style headshot at the top of an opinion piece. Next to the photo was a blurb: Maiv Moua is the editor in chief of the Clevelanders Dispatch.

  The girl from locker 4277 now had a name.

  It wasn’t hard to find Maiv on Facebook. Ana created a new, fake Facebook profile for herself, under the name Ima Contestant.

  She started typing out a private message to Maiv. But then she stopped. If Maiv was part of this, then the Benefactor was probably monitoring Maiv’s computer. He’d see everything Maiv saw.

  But if Ana sent the message in code . . .

  It was worth a shot. The code she’d used with Izzy wasn’t exactly rocket science. The first letter in each sentence was a letter in the real message. Maybe Maiv would be able to puzzle it out. With the code, Ana spelled out: I’m Ana. Are you in the Contest? We should talk.

  She closed her eyes, feeling good for the first time in days. She was in charge now.

  CHAPTER 11

  At school the next day, Ana was itching to check that email account. But she knew the Benefactor could be monitoring her phone. She’d wait till she could use Izzy’s iPad at home.

  And tonight would be the last time she had to call the Davenports’ house “home.” Tomorrow, she and Izzy would make their escape. Without the Benefactor’s help. Ana already had her getaway cash in her wallet. Tonight she would secretly pack some clothes and food to take with her on Thursday morning. She hadn’t told Izzy the plan yet. Izzy could usually be trusted with secrets, but running away was big. Ana would keep this to herself until tomorrow.

  Meanwhile, she had to act as if everything was normal. Which included staying late at school for tennis practice. She didn’t even want to be on the tennis team, but her foster parents insisted that she play a sport. Yet another thing she wouldn’t miss once she and Izzy were gone.

  On the way to the girls’ locker room, Ana felt her phone buzz. Still walking, she took the phone out of her pocket to check it. She had one new message—could it be from Maiv?

  But before she could see what it was, she turned the corner and someone ran into her—hard. She toppled backward and hit the floor. Her phone skidded across the floor.

  Ana crawled quickly to the phone, then looked up. A good-looking African American boy stood in front of her, staring at her with concerned eyes.

  She mumbled an apology, shouldered her backpack, and practically ran to the girls’ locker room. She didn’t look down at her phone again until she was standing by her locker.

  The email wasn’t from Maiv. It was from the Benefactor.

  With shaking fingers, Ana opened the email. There was no text, only a QuickTime movie. As soon as it started playing, Ana felt cold all over.

  It was a video of her and Izzy. She was pushing Izzy on a swing and laughing. That had happened just a few days ago. Someone must have recorded them.

  By the time the movie had ended, another email from the Benefactor was in her inbox. Just three words.

  You will pay.

  *****

  More than once during practice, Ana almost got hit by a tennis ball. She could barely stand up, let alone focus on her swing. How was she going to pay? Was the video of Izzy the punishment?

  And how had this guy even known she’d tried to contact Maiv? She’d been so careful . . .

  He must be monitoring Izzy’s iPad too. Was there anything he wasn’t keeping track of?

  Back at the girl’s locker room after practice, Ana flipped the combination, barely thinking about it, and opened the door.

  There was nothing in it.

  Her backpack was gone. And with it, the jump drive, her only proof about her foster dad.

  She knew, now, how she would pay.

  CHAPTER 12

  “You OK?” asked Emma, who was getting her own gear out of another locker.

  Ana blinked, wondering why Emma was there. Right. Tennis practice. We just finished tennis practice. That felt like a million years ago.

  She tried to think. If the Benefactor was watching her this closely . . . she needed a way around that. She couldn’t get out of this contest if the Benefactor knew every move she made.

  “Yeah, I’m OK,” she told Emma. “Want to walk out together?”

  Emma gave her a weird look. “Sure. Whatever.”

  Ana waited to say anything until they were outside the school. Away from whatever cameras and listening devices the Benefactor might’ve planted in there.

  She took a deep breath. “So I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m wondering if you can do me a favor?”

  Emma shrugged and snapped her gum. “Sure. What is it?”

  Ana took out a wad of cash in her purse and handed it to Emma. Emma’s eyes went wide. “What the—?”

  Ana gestured for Emma to put the money in her purse and Emma did quickly. Ana said, “I need you to buy me a tablet and keep it under your name. I need 4G in case I can’t use Wi-Fi. And I need you to keep it a secret. The last part is really important.”

  Emma stopped in the middle of the hall. Ana held her breath. She was taking a huge risk here. First, that the Benefactor wouldn’t somehow see this coming. And second, that Emma could keep her mouth shut. But at this point, she had no better options.

  Emma stared into her eyes, worried. Ana didn’t blink. Emma said, “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Ana said, “Not yet. But soon.”

  Emma seemed to make a decision. “Well then, do you want a mini or a big one?”

  Ana smiled big at her.

  *****

  The snap cutter was sitting on her bed. She had definitely not left it there. She’d thrown it in the trash can by her desk . . .

  Her phone buzzed. Another email from the Benefactor sat in her inbox.

  Ana,

  You have breached the contract you signed with us. You attempted to contact someone else about the Contest. We are deeply disappointed.

  If you want your flash drive back, you must finish the tasks assigned to you. Because of our generosity, we will still keep you in the running for the $10 million. However, if you fail a task again, more than a flash drive will be taken from you.

  The snap c
utter is on your bed, as you can see. You now have twelve hours to finish Task 4.

  Ana couldn’t breathe. They’d been in this house. Not just watching it. In it—in her room.

  She sank down on her bed, inches from the tool. Now she could cry.

  The Benefactor was not going to let her back out of this. They would take Izzy from her. And who knew what else they would do.

  So she had no choice. Whatever they wanted her to do, she’d do it. And whoever the Benefactor was, they knew that.

  She sat up straight and wiped her eyes. She was used to being bullied. By other kids in the system, by her foster dad, and now by this Benefactor. No more. Maybe the Benefactor was watching her, but she would find out a way to watch them. And she had her start with SolarStar.

  She grabbed the snap cutter. She would do their tasks. But she would find these people too. And she would make them pay.

  CHAPTER 13

  Cutting the pipes using the snap cutter at that house had been surprisingly easy, though Ana couldn’t imagine how her heart hadn’t beaten out of her chest. She’d even managed to do all the work in the middle of the day. The house had been empty, and construction was going on everywhere around her, so she didn’t have to worry about noise. No one noticed her as far as she could tell.

  But before she left, she slipped a tiny bottle with a note in the pipe she’d just cut in half. Chances were that Maiv would never get it, but Ana had to try. The note just said: The Benefactor is messing with me too. And below that, a new email address she’d created for herself.

  Because Ana had a plan.

  *****

  At school Thursday morning, Emma handed Ana a new tablet.