The girls don’t let on immediately that they know who she is. This hardly surprises Emily; she remembers her days at St. Trinian’s, the plotting and the strategies. But she waits, and watches. She knows those looks, those whispers, the immediate hush when they think she’s listening. And so she plays a waiting game.
In her fourth week as an instructor, they corner her outside the teachers’ lounge one day. It doesn’t surprise her that it’s Kelly and Polly who confront her; of all the girls, she’d expected it to be them.
“We know who you are.”
“Well, after four weeks being here, I should certainly hope so,” Emily replies with a smile. Polly and Kelly share a look that’s part exasperation and part amusement.
“That’s not what we meant, and you know that very well, agent,” Polly replies. “I’ve seen your file. I know that you’ve faked your own death, you’re on the run from a dangerous criminal, and that nobody from your team knows where you are.” Emily nods, a little impressed, but also a little homesick. Polly reminds her of Garcia, just a little. She’s not nearly as exuberant as Garcia is, but she more than makes up for that in talent.
“I must say, I’m impressed at your resourcefulness, girls,” Emily responds with a small nod. “And now that you know so much about me, what do you plan to do about it?” Kelly and Polly share another look before turning back to her. Kelly steps forward slightly and squares her shoulders, entering full-on Head Girl mode.
“We want to help.”