Millie says, “I’m against this.”“I’m not,” Faith announces as Mariah zips her jacket. “I think it’s cool to be a spy.”“You’re not a spy. You’re a sneak.”Mariah pats down the placket of the zipper.“You ready?”She knows Faith is; she’s been ready since 6:00 A.m., when Mariah told her what was going to happen. Of course, she’d couched it in the vocabulary of suspense and adventure, so that Faith would feel more like a young Indiana Jones than a child being taken into hiding. And so far the escapade has lived up to Faith’s anticipation–stealing into the car with little more than a knapsack apiece, driving forty-five minutes to the mall, blending into the crowds to lose the two dogged reporters who’d tailed them there.The reporters will no doubt stake out her Honda, waiting for the three of them to appear. But by the time Millie walks to the parking lot to drive the car back home, Mariah and Faith will already have changed clothes and met a taxi at an exit on the far side of the mall, headed toward the airport.Now all she has to do is say good-bye.Mariah glances at the mirror in the bathroom at Filene’s and catches her mother’s gaze.Millie walks forward and puts her arm around Mariah’s waist.
