Hannah

“the things we carry with us from childhood define who we become.”
― Laura Schroff, An Invisible Thread

“What is a Gallagher Girl?” Liz asked.

She looked nervously down at the papers in her hand even though I knew for a fact she had memorized every word.

“When I was eleven I thought I knew the answer to that question. That was when the recruiters came to see me. They showed me brochures and told me they were impressed by my test scores and asked if I was ready to be challenged. And I said yes. Because that was what a Gallagher Girl was to me then, a student at the toughest school in the world.”

She took a deep breath and talked on.

“What is a Gallagher Girl?” Liz asked again. “When I was thirteen I thought I knew the answer to that question. That was when Dr. Fibs allowed me to start doing my own experiments in the lab. I could go anywhere—make anything. Do anything my mind could dream up. Because I was a Gallagher Girl. And, to me, that meant I was the future.”

Liz took another deep breath.

“What is a Gallagher Girl?” This time, when Liz asked it, her voice cracked. “When I was seventeen I stood on a dark street in Washington, D.C., and watched one Gallagher Girl literally jump in front of a bullet to save the life of another. I saw a group of women gather around a girl whom they had never met, telling the world that if any harm was to come to their sister, it had to go through them first.”

Liz straightened. She no longer had to look down at her paper as she said, “What is a Gallagher Girl? I’m eighteen now, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that I don’t really know the answer to that question. Maybe she is destined to be our first international graduate and take her rightful place among Her Majesty’s Secret Service with MI6.”

I glanced to my right and, call me crazy, but I could have sworn Rebecca Baxter was crying.

“Maybe she is someone who chooses to give back, to serve her life protecting others just as someone once protected her.”

Macey smirked but didn’t cry. I got the feeling that Macey McHenry might never cry again.

“Who knows?” Liz asked. “Maybe she’s an undercover journalist.” I glanced at Tina Walters. “An FBI agent.” Eva Alvarez beamed. “A code breaker.” Kim Lee smiled. “A queen.” I thought of little Amirah and knew somehow that she’d be okay.

“Maybe she’s even a college student.” Liz looked right at me. “Or maybe she’s so much more.”

Then Liz went quiet for a moment. She too looked up at the place where the mansion used to stand.

“You know, there was a time when I thought that the Gallagher Academy was made of stone and wood, Grand Halls and high-tech labs. When I thought it was bulletproof, hack-proof, and…yes…fireproof. And I stand before you today happy for the reminder that none of those things are true. Yes, I really am. Because I know now that a Gallagher Girl is not someone who draws her power from that building. I know now with scientific certainty that it is the other way around.”

A hushed awe descended over the already quiet crowd as she said this. Maybe it was the gravity of her words and what they meant, but for me personally, I like to think it was Gilly looking down, smiling at us all.

“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.”

Thunderous, raucous applause filled the student section.

Liz smiled and wiped her eyes. She leaned close to the microphone.

“And, most of all, she is my sister.”
― Ally Carter, United We Spy

“Ever hear the saying that you need to be scared to be brave?”
― Cecelia Ahern, P.S. I Love You

“Disappointment comes from expectation,”
― Ann Patchett, The Dutch House