Free Need to Know by Karen Cleveland Page A

past the pictures of my family, because I can’t look at them right now or I might break down. My gaze settles on a little chart, something that’s been there for years, ignored. A handout from a training course on analytic rigor. I scan it now, for the first time in ages, something to take my mind off reality.
Consider second- and third-order implications
….
Think about unintended consequences….
    His words this morning, in the driveway, run through my head.
Money’ll be tight
. We’ll lose his salary. That much I’ve already considered. I’ll have to pull the youngest three out of school for sure, probably hire a nanny, someone cut-rate, and I’ll have to swallow my fear of a stranger watching my kids, driving them around.
    For the first time, though, it dawns on me that I’ll lose my job, too. There’s no way Tina would agree to keep me on, to let me keep my security clearance, when I was married to a Russian spy. It’s one thing to lose Matt’s salary. How will we survive if we lose mine, too?
    Oh God. We’ll lose my health insurance. Caleb. How is Caleb possibly going to get the care he needs?
    I picture Matt breaking down.
What’s this going to do to the kids?
Suddenly the future appears before my eyes. The media spectacle that this is sure to become. My kids, no father, no money, ripped from everything they know. The notoriety that’ll always follow them. The shame, the suspicion, because after all they’re his flesh and blood. Sons and daughter of a traitor.
    I’m frozen in fear. None of this should have happened. If I hadn’t stumbled upon the photo, hadn’t come up with that damn algorithm, fought my way into Yury’s laptop, I wouldn’t know about Matt. No one would. His words ring in my head.
If only you weren’t so good at your job.
    My eyes shift back to the buttons at the top of the screen. Active. Passive. I can’t do this, can I? But I’m moving the cursor there anyway, until the arrow’s hovering over Active. I click, and the borders of the screen change from red to green. Guilt threatens to overwhelm me. I think of my first day on the job, raising my right hand, taking the oath.
    …support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic…
    Matt’s not an enemy, though. He’s not a bad guy. He’s a good person, a decent person, someone who was taken advantage of as a kid, trapped in circumstances beyond his control. He hasn’t done anything wrong, brought any harm to our country. He wouldn’t. I know he wouldn’t.
    I move the cursor to the folder. I right-click, guide the arrow down to the command Delete. And then I hover there, my hand trembling.
    Time. I just need more time. Time to think, time to figure things out, time to come up with a solution. There has to be a solution, a way out of this. A way to go back to the way things were, before. I close my eyes, and I’m at the altar with Matt, looking into his eyes, saying my vows.
    …in good times and in bad…
    I promised to be true to him, all the days of my life. And then I hear his voice, last night.
I’ll never tell, Viv. I swear. I’d never do that to you.
He wouldn’t, would he? And here I am, about to do exactly that to him.
    Images of our kids run through my mind. Each of their faces, so innocent, so happy. This would destroy them
.
    And then another memory from our wedding day, our first dance, the words Matt whispered in my ear, the ones that’ve never made sense, for all these years. There’s a sudden clarity to them now.
    I open my eyes, and they instantly find the word. Delete. Highlighted, the cursor still hovering over it. More words float through my head, and I don’t even know if they’re his, or mine, or if it matters
. I just wish none of this had happened.
    I wish I could make it disappear.
    And then I click.

The folder is gone.
    I hold my breath and watch the screen, waiting for something else to happen. But it doesn’t. The folder just vanished,