It felt like a lifetime before Saturday finally arrived and the five students were able to attend their first meeting with the Agency. Jessa thought the room seemed quite different from the inside. It was definitely more cramped, although that might have been down to the addition of the five teenagers, squeezed together in a row on one end of the table.

“I can say with certainty, that Jessa has a level of parapsychological ability that I’ve never seen before,” Hugo Fletcher addressed the group, who mostly continued staring at Jessa. “In fact, I’ve been monitoring the parabilities of all these kids, and they’re all above-average in their respective skills.”

None of the students knew quite what he was referring to at this point, but they all remained still and quiet, letting him speak.

“Not only that, but their interest in this investigation is unparalleled, and I think that could be a huge benefit to us.”

“Hugo, are you really suggesting,” a shiny-headed man began, “that the person behind these acts is someone who has, in a manner of speaking, risen from the dead, and now because some kid had an ‘intuition,’ that we should actually consider it an actual line of enquiry?” Ridicule oozed from his every word.

“Actually, Howard,” Mr Fletcher responded forcefully, “I’m not suggesting that Silas Lynch has, in any manner of speaking, ‘risen from the dead.’ What I am suggesting is that he’s alive and never died at all, a theory which you can see in the report that I’ve printed for you, has a lot of solid evidence. Furthermore, yes, a ‘kid’ had an intuition, but I’ve also just told you that she has an incredible level of ability. We use other Agency members’ parabilities to our advantage, so I don’t see why we should treat these people any differently based on their age.”

Jessa felt her mouth turning up into a smug smile at Mr Fletcher’s rebuttal. The bald man called Howard was still contorting his face into an almost comical crumple of stubbornness, but he did turn his gaze to the little folder in front of him.

Dr Mortlock sat stock still, looking at the front of her folder. At school it was difficult to read anything of the headteacher’s expression; she was usually so impassive and stoic. But in the stark strangeness of the Agency meeting, she was a picture of emotion. Sadness, confusion and worry painted across her face, subtle as watercolour but definitely there.

“Silas Lynch,” she said quietly as she opened the folder to the first page.

“Yes, Felicia,” Hugo Fletcher nodded. “I know it sounds farfetched, but there really is a good amount of evidence to suggest that he escaped death. I haven’t quite worked out how, but if we look into it more, I think we can figure it out. ”

The skin on Dr Mortlock’s forehead puckered. She cleared her throat and turned her gaze downward to read the material Hugo Fletcher had provided for them.

“So what exactly are you proposing here, Hugo?” said Howard.

“A full-scale investigation into Silas Lynch,” he replied calmly.

“Won’t happen,” said the smooth voice of an older man. “I trust your judgment on this, Hugo, and your suggestion is worth looking into. But unfortunately, this isn’t enough tangible evidence to use as the basis for a full investigation.”

“John’s right, Hugo,” said an older lady with long curly hair, gesturing to the man who just spoke. Jessa recognised her voice. “This just isn’t enough to use all our resources on. John and Matt have been using their intel to compare official investigations with ours, and—”

“And they haven’t found anything, Sue!” Hugo Fletcher said strongly. “The authorities don’t know anything! I fully appreciate the risks John and Matt take to aid our investigation, but whatever results we’ve had so far just haven’t been enough!”

“No disrespect, Hugo,” said a forty-something-year-old man wearing a too-old-for-him jumper, “but how can we trust these kids not to go blabbering around.”

“Because these are Winsbury students, Special Agent Allerton,” Dr Mortlock said sternly. “Winsbury students do not simply blabber around. If Mr Fletcher is proposing the students as legitimate Agents in this investigation, then he has my support.”

“With or without the student Agents, I still can’t devote all our time and energy to Silas Lynch as a suspect. And that’s final.” John placed his palms down onto the table.

“Well then I request permission for a sub-team,” Hugo Fletcher proposed. “I’ll lead the students in our own self-directed research, and anyone else who wants to join, is welcome to do so.”

“I’d be interested to join a sub-team on this,” said a lady with a cropped hairstyle. She hadn’t yet spoken in the meeting, but it turned out that she had a soft voice with a northern accent. Jessa thought her rather pretty, in a tomboyish sort of way.

“Thank you, Rachel,” Hugo smiled.

“And I, too, stand with Winsbury,” said Dr Mortlock.

John scrutinised Jessa through his squinched eyes. “I recognise the interest of a sub-team, but I still have my concerns.” He looked at each of the teenagers, one by one. “Even with Felicia vouching for the sincerity of her students, how can we definitively know they’re trustworthy enough to be involved?”

“John, if I may—”

“Hear me out, please, Hugo. Because it’s not just a case of them—accidentally or otherwise—giving away information about the Agency’s existence; my concern lies in the personal repercussions that might occur in that instance. We can’t risk the reputations of our high profile members, or those of us who work in public services, for example. If those members get found out, it could mean losing everything.”

“John, please,” Hugo leaned forward in his seat, his hands clasped together on the table. “I’d like all of you to consider for a moment how long we’ve known each other. The newest member of this branch is Rachel, and even she has been involved for a year now, so I’d like to think we know each other quite well. Have I ever done anything—and I mean, anything—to make you doubt my allegiance or my passion for our service?”

John pursed his lips.

“So on what basis do you think I would invite anyone to the Agency if I thought their involvement would have any negative impact?”

The man called Howard shook his head. The fluorescent light bounced off his scalp. “It’s not you, Hugo, it’s just—“

“Come on!” Hugo slammed his fist lightly on the table. “You know full well that the nature of Agency membership is by invitation. These five people—”

“—children.”

“Give it a rest, Howard. These people are here at my request because I solemnly believe they would be an asset to the Agency.”

“Your belief isn’t based on anything!” Howard sprayed a light sprinkling of saliva onto the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “In the history of the Agency, we’ve never invited someone under the age of 18.”

Hugo leaned into his backrest and rubbed his face.

“There is a first time for everything, Howard,” said the apparently most subdued member of the group, a man with bright white hair, whose age was impossible to tell.

“Exactly, Henrik,” said Hugo. “Thank you.”

“Are you finished in your proposal, Hugo?” asked John.

Hugo responded with an exasperated shrug. “There’s probably nothing else I can say to convince anyone who disagrees with me. It’s all in the folder.”

“Then I advise everyone to take a moment to look over the document Hugo has prepared for us.”

The seven other adults flipped through the pages before them. Dr Mortlock finished with her paperwork first and placed it neatly back onto the table. Jessa kept her eyes on Howard, who read each page noisily, his lips making balmy smacks as he mouthed the words. He had fingermarks on his glasses and coffee stains on his teeth. He tutted again.

“Is everyone finished?” John asked the group.

They all returned their papers to the table.

“Then, by Agency tradition, it’s my duty as branch director to request of you all your vote: in favour of, or in opposition to, the invitation of membership to the following: Jessamine Baxter, Flynn Howard, Annora Huff, Margaret Turner, and Tonia Pitts.

Felicia, your response?”

“Unquestionably in favour.”

“Rachel?”

“In favour.”

“Matt?”

“In favour.”

“Howard?”

“Strongly opposed.”

“Henrik?”

“I have my doubts, but I trust Hugo. In favour.”

“Sue?”

“In favour.”

“And I, John Cane, vote in favour. So by a vote of seven to one, the invitation is extended to all of you.

By the end of this meeting, we request that you submit to us your decision. If you decide you don’t wish to partake, you’ll be free to go, and our only request is that you keep all of your involvement so far to yourself and never speak of it again, to anyone. We hope that in the event of your parting ways with us that you respect the other members enough to protect them with your silence.

If you agree to membership, you’ll be fully welcomed into the Agency and will be welcome at all branch meetings. I ask of your petitioner Hugo Fletcher and your headteacher Dr Mortlock, to take responsibility for keeping in contact with you regarding any relevant updates.

Now we turn our attention to you and we ask, do you have any questions?”