I yanked my hand away. Heart racing, I felt my jaw go limp. I removed the remaining packaging material and stifled a scream of surprise when I saw the explosives.

This was an IED.

“Help,” I said too softly, too weakly. I stood, calling out again, knowing no one would hear me. I ran out the door, intent on getting in touch with the Secret Service. But… I couldn’t just run away. There were others in this area-in the carpenter’s area, the florist’s office, the laundry. I couldn’t let innocent people there wait until something exploded.

I ran to the laundry room. “Get out,” I screamed. “Hurry! A bomb. A bomb!”

I heard movement, and one of the laundry ladies came around the corner, looking confused.

“Get everybody out,” I said, already running toward the florist’s area. “Get out now, and get help!”

After warning as many people as I could, I ran into the nearest work area-the electrical shop. No one there.

Their phone was near the workbench. I picked it up and connected with the emergency operator. She told me to leave immediately and that help was on the way. I ran.

More than a dozen people were making their way quickly to the Center Hall, heading into the Diplomatic Reception Room, where they could evacuate via the south doors.

I skidded around the corner and rushed to the kitchen. My team stared up at me with wide eyes. “Everybody out,” I said.

Bucky started to say something.

I waved them forward, toward me and the door. “Now.”

They took one look at my face and filed out. Mentally, I tallied them, making sure that everyone was accounted for.

Secret Service agents moved in fast. Before I could even think about what to do next, they’d covered every inch of the White House, urging people out the doors, barking orders, and taking firm control.

By the time I made it outside myself, I estimated we’d evacuated the residence in under three minutes. Not bad for a staff of more than ninety. I stared at the building, waiting. Wondering what would happen next.

I made my way over to my group. Bucky was talking with Rafe and Agda, and Cyan was listening in. They shifted their small circle to let me in.

“It’s freezing out here,” Cyan said, hugging herself. “I hope we don’t get stuck outside for very long. What happened?”

I rubbed my own arms but as I tried to explain, the wind whipped my words away. I had to raise my voice as I repeated myself.

“You found a bomb?” Cyan said, with incredulity in her voice. “Are you sure?”

I opened my mouth to answer, realizing I wasn’t sure at all. Maybe I’d overreacted. “It was…” My words faltered. I turned, taking a look at my colleagues-the rest of the White House staff-all of us huddled in small groups against the bitter chill. We were all out here, freezing, rather than inside doing our work. Just because I’d sounded an alarm.

“I think it was a bomb,” I said finally.

“You think?” Bucky said. “You don’t know?”

My stomach dropped. With the benefit of hindsight, I realized I didn’t really know what a bomb looked like. Just because this one had some of the same features as the one Gavin had shown us didn’t mean that it posed any real threat.

Bucky wasn’t happy. Breath-clouds poured out of his mouth as he asked, “Was it ticking?”

“No.”

He exhaled sharply and walked over to join another group.

Maybe I should have simply called the Secret Service and let them handle it. Maybe if I’d done that, we’d all still be safely inside, and warm. The small groups of staffers snuck glances in my direction. I was sure they were discussing my “sky is falling” cries. The group around me chatted, keeping an eye on the activity just outside the south doors where a team of helmeted, black-cad individuals ran in.

“Bomb team,” Rafe said.

We all nodded, silent now. Far enough away to feel safe, we could see the action but there was no way to make out faces from this distance. Secret Service personnel were maintaining a perimeter a distance away from the south doors, but I couldn’t see who was on duty. I didn’t expect any of them to be Tom, though; As part of the elite Presidential Protection Detail, he would be with President Campbell, wherever that may be.

Bucky wandered back with a swagger. “It’s a fake.”

“What?” we all asked at once.

Clearly pleased to be the source of insider information, Bucky took his time answering. “I was talking to Angela,” he said. “She got a call from her brother, who has a friend on the bomb squad.”

He continued. My stomach dropped.

“Nothing there. The thing Ollie found was probably just some junk. Not a bomb.”

He kept talking about what a mess this was, and what a hassle we were all dealing with because of my too-quick-on-the-trigger response.

Feeling my face grow hot, I was about to argue that it’s better to be safe than sorry, when Gavin stepped into our little group. Despite the bracing wind, he looked unruffled, though not pleased.

“Ms. Paras,” he said. “Come with me.”

Cyan gave me a pitying look.

“Is there some way we can get the staff inside?” I asked.

Gavin kept looking straight ahead. “It is being taken care of.”

“What will they-”

“Ms. Paras, the comfort of your colleagues is not my immediate concern, but if it eases your mind, buses have been dispatched to pick everyone up and to keep them together.”

I remembered how much time that took when I was sequestered with Mrs. Campbell and Sean in the bunker. I remembered Bucky’s complaints. Had that been only a couple of days ago? So much had happened since then.

As we walked, I relived my adventure in the bunker and thought about Sean. My heart gave a little wobble. What had happened there? And how could I be missing someone I hadn’t really known all that well?

A moment later it dawned on me that we weren’t walking back to the White House. Gavin was leading me away, toward an idling black car. A Secret Service agent I didn’t recognize opened the back door for me.

This was like something out of a spy movie.

“What-?”

“Just get in,” Gavin said.

The car’s warmth and smell of new leather helped lessen the goose bumps I bore from the cold. The ones from fear were still popping, mightily. “What’s going on?” I asked when he sidled in beside me.

There was a driver and another man in the front seat. They both turned.

Gavin spoke, his enunciation so crisp, new goose bumps zoomed up the back of my arms and traipsed across my shoulders. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

I did. They recorded my description of finding the box and opening it.

“Why didn’t you call security the moment you saw the box?” Gavin asked.

I looked at him as though he was nuts. “It was a brown box in a storage room,” I said with a little sharpness to my tone. “And it was marked for storage. Why would I ever be suspicious of something like that?”

The three men exchanged looks. I felt like the new kid at school, missing all the inside jokes because I wasn’t considered “cool” yet.

“I already heard that I blew it,” I said. “So why am I being questioned?”

Gavin gave me a puzzled look, but he answered. “In due course, Ms. Paras. Right now we need to go over your story again.”

I sighed. “Okay.” Again I recited the chain of events as best I could.

Gavin worked his lips as I spoke, his gaze never wavering from mine. I occasionally shifted my attention to the other two men, as though to include them in my narration, but Gavin grew more agitated by the moment. When noise outside the car drew the men’s attention away from me, I had a moment of relief.

A man dressed all in black and wearing body armor rapped at the window. Gavin got out.

“You stay here,” he said to me before slamming the door.

I turned to the other two. “Did I do something wrong?”

They were both about thirty years old. The shorter one had dark hair and a pale complexion. The taller one was broad-shouldered, with sandy hair. Since he was in the passenger seat and I was directly behind him, I could only see his face in profile when he turned to me. The two men exchanged another look.