I thought the morning would bring change. But I should have known that it doesn't take that long for change to happen - it takes a second. A moment. In a single breath, reality as you know it can simply fall away.

Hale looked at Macey, who added, "Seven minutes since shots fired.""Kat what's the emergency response tie in Midtown Manhattan?""Not long enough if they want a clean exit," she told him.Macey hadn't heard Kat's words, but she looked at Hale like she'd read his mind.

When the woman took the earbud, he didn't ask another question. She was a woman on a mission as she placed the tiny device in her ear and said, "This is Special Agent Abby Cameron. Let me talk to Macey McHenry.

When his phone rang, he had to dig through his pocket to find it, and his fingers brushed against a pair of tiny earbuds he and Kat had last used in Monte Carlo. Hale smiled a little, realizing he hadn’t worn the tux in ages. It was just one of many ways his life had change in the years since a girl named Katarina Bishop crawled into his window and into his life."— Double Crossed by Ally Carter

Macey was just starting to argue when Abby asked, "What can you tell me about the gunmen?""They're amateurs," Hale said at the exact same time Macey told her teacher, "They're pros.

What is a Gallagher Girl?" Liz asked one final time. "She's a genius, a scientist, a heroine, a spy. And now we are at the end of our time at school, and the one thing I know for certain is this: a Gallagher Girl is whatever she wants to be.

Sometime years before, I had dragged an old bean bag chair to that place. I watched Zach sink onto it, and then he pulled me down to lean against him. I felt his arms go around me, holding me tight.I was safe.I was warm.I was home.

Maybe it's only fitting that a relationship that started with a lie would end with one.

He's just . . .” I tried, wanting to say “sweet” or “caring” or “funny”—because they're all totally true. But instead, I said, “He's just a normal boy.”“Hmph,” Macey scoffed. “I know lots of normal boys.”I looked at her. “I don't.

So do you come here often?” he asked in a slightly self-mocking way. I couldn't help myself—I smiled. “see, you don't even have to answer that, because I know all the trash cans in town, and while this is a very nice trash can, it doesn't look like the kind of trash can a girl like you would normally scavenge from.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he went on. “Now, the trash cans on Seventh Street, those are some very nice trash cans.