“To the right of the punch bowl hung a portrait of Baltimore seamstress Mary Pickersgill. She had eyes that followed you wherever you went in the exhibit, right into the far, shadowy corners.”

As the tour group that will steal the flag tours the museum, Messner describes the artifacts from the Battle of Baltimore they pass along the way, providing a short history lesson. By personifying the portrait and indicating that Pickersgill’s eyes follow the men, Messner suggests her spirit is still watching over the flag she created—and in fact, her descendant Claude really is. By calling out the name Pickersgill, Messner also provides a hint as to Claude’s real identity.

“At the end of the school year, they were leaving Burlington’s Old North End and the house where his mom used to make corn muffins on Sundays. […] and they were moving to stupid Boston with stupid Bethany because—what great luck!—Boston University had hired his dad for a stupid teaching position.”

Henry’s childhood home represents one of his last connections to his mother, and Messner uses the repetition of “stupid” to develop Henry’s voice and convey his resentment toward his father for remarrying and deciding to move to Boston. This passage develops Henry as a character and provides context for his desire to distance himself from others due to his unresolved emotions and grief over his mother’s death.

“With seven minutes to spare, as he was reaching for the final clamp, he sneezed. Darn allergies. Who knew what kind of old dust he’d stirred up just touching the flag.”

Messner describes each step the man takes as he unclamps the flag, highlighting the care taken to monitor the humidity levels in the room and keep the flag safe. These details develop tension as time runs out, but also emphasize the flag’s fragility—a simple sneeze could set off alarms.