Agent S

by Molly Schoemann

The picture in the paper was blurry and indistinct, but the headline gave E.M. Rice enormous satisfaction.

“I’ve really done it this time,” he said, reaching for his orange juice. “This one’s going to be hard for Agent S to live down.”

He chuckled gleefully, glancing over the paper and across the breakfast table at Heddy, who looked unimpressed.

“Isn’t it a little early in the morning for gloating?” she asked. “You really get off on this stuff, don’t you?”

Rice didn’t like her tone. Wasn’t that the point of a steady girl -- having someone to share in the little everyday triumphs?

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