That night after dinner, while her parents did dishes and her sister did homework, Ash gave Beckett his bath. She enjoyed this nightly ritual most of the time, but she especially looked forward to it on nights like this when she had a lot on her mind. Speaking her thoughts out loud helped her reason through a problem; even better was hearing her own thoughts repeated back to her. And when it comes to listening to words and repeating them back, no one’s better than a baby.
“Did you like riding the boat today?” Ash asked as she lowered Beckett into the water.
He found his toy boat and held it out to her. “Boat.”
“You keep it,” Ash said. “It’s your boat.”
“Beck boat.”
“Yes, Beckett’s boat. Get ready for a rinse.”
Ash used one hand to cover her brother’s eyes and the other to pour water over his head. Beckett twisted and splashed. He never liked that part.
“Good job, Beck. Fish?” she offered.
He blinked a few times. Then he took the toy fish and tried to force it into his mouth.
“It’s not a real fish, silly.”
Beckett giggled and chomped on the toy fish with more gusto.
“Okay, suit yourself.” Ash pumped some baby shampoo onto her hands and rubbed it gently into his wispy hair. “So, listen to this. While you were getting a new diaper, Maya and I accidentally walked into a meeting at Van Ness Media. It was a mistake, I swear. But we saw all these adults talking about profile IDs and tracking.”
“Tacking,” Beckett said.
“Yeah, tracking. Whatever that means. But here’s the thing. They were looking at a map of Federal Hill. Our neighborhood. And it had these little dots on it, like the one showing where we are when we use GPS. Do you think that’s weird?”
“Eared.”
“Yeah. I think it’s weird too. I mean, they make the software, so I guess they’re allowed to know where people are using it?”
“Ow’d,” Beckett said.
“Maybe they’re allowed,” Ash granted. Still, something didn’t feel right.
“Face,” Beckett said.
“You got it. Close your eyes.” As she ran a soapy washcloth over Beckett’s face, Ash thought about the panic that had come over the room when she and Maya had walked in. It was like the way Sadie quickly closed the pantry door when Dad caught her sneaking cookies.
“Why were they in a room with no sign, at the end of a long hall,” Ash wondered aloud, “when there were a million empty meeting rooms with glass doors?”
“Eyes?” Beckett asked.
“Yes, close your eyes.” Ash rinsed his face with clean water. “Okay. You can open now.”
He did. Then he stuffed his toy fish back in his mouth.
Someone tapped on the bathroom door.
“Come in,” Ash said.
Beckett clapped and said, “Da!”
“What are you two up to in here?” Dad asked. “It sounds like quite the conversation.”
“Eyes close,” Beckett said seriously.
“Ah, yes,” Dad said. “Eyes closed. Is that what your stimulating discussion is about?”
Ash debated telling Dad about Van Ness Media. He might have a good, structural-engineery explanation for what she’d heard.
But what if he got angry? Dad was always telling her to knock before entering. He’d even knocked now, to respect her privacy with Beckett. She and Maya hadn’t meant to stumble upon a top secret meeting. Then again, they hadn’t meant to stumble upon Coach Kelly dancing in her underwear either, and that had cost them The News at Nine. If Dad and Abba found out that Ash and Maya had seen something they weren’t supposed to see—again—they might take away The Underground News.
No, she couldn’t take the risk. Not when her show was only getting started, and Harry was a “Young Creative to Watch.” Not when what she saw today might lead her to real news worth reporting.
“Beck and I were just talking about Van Ness Media,” Ash said, which was technically true. “I think there might be a good story there.”
“Ah, cool,” said Dad. “Well, send them an email and see if you can get an interview lined up. That’ll be better than showing up unexpected.”
Too late for that, Ash thought.
“If you ask the right questions, I’m sure it’ll make a great episode.”
“I think so,” Ash agreed. She had lots of questions.
Beckett held out his toy fish. “Fishy,” he said.
“Yes,” Ash said. She thought, Something is very, very fishy.