Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

ecause she doesn’t have a blog. Besides, that’s a huge leap of imag-
ination from supernatural powers to Greek mythology. Maybe this
is completely unrelated to my slip-up.”
Mom stands up and smacks her hand on the desk. “Will someone
please tell me what’s going on?”
Damian raises his brows at me—a clear indication that I should
be the one to tell her. Taking a deep breath, I explain, “I let half a
detail slip in an IM chat with Cesca last week.” Turning to Damian,
I add, “Not enough for her to jump to this conclusion. Besides,
Cesca wouldn’t do this. She couldn’t. Her computer literacy does
not extend far beyond turning it on and opening IM.”
“The fact remains,” he says, “that someone is looking into the
island and that is jeopardizing our security.”
Mom gasps. “Are the children in danger?”
“Not yet,” he assures her. “But if the perpetrator outwits our web
scanners, they could be. We all could be.”
“Well,” I insist, “it’s not Cesca.”
“I know that.” Damian unfolds a piece of paper from his pocket.
“The author of the blog is using the name JAM Freak.”
Oh no! I gasp and both Mom and Damian turn to look at me.
“Do you know who that is?” he asks.
My mind racing, I can only nod.
“Who is it?” Mom asks.
I shake my head, not believing it.
He wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
Damian hands me the paper.
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