STILL WORKED UP over my exchange with Matteo and my worry about my family, I take a seat in Conner’s office. I focus on the flames crackling in the fireplace, the only thing in the whole room that has movement and doesn’t feel stale.

“Is there anything you would like to tell me, November?” Conner asks from the couch across from mine. Ten things that I don’t want him to know flash through my thoughts.

“Not particularly,” I say.

His eyes focus on me in a way that tells me he doesn’t accept my answer. “Why don’t we talk about your friendship with Ashai?” he says slowly.

I hate these vague leading questions. I much prefer Blackwood’s direct ones. “Where’s Headmaster Blackwood?”

“Not here,” Conner says, and offers no clarification.

I lean back into the couch, trying to give him the impression that I’m comfortable and have nothing to hide. “What do you want to know?”

“You and Ashai have been spending a lot of time together,” he says like he’s daring me to disagree.

“He’s my roommate’s brother. It would be hard to avoid him if I wanted to,” I say.

“Do you want to?” he asks.

These mind games are the worst. “Not particularly.”

“Because you find him attractive?” he says.

“You already heard me say that to Headmaster Blackwood,” I reply casually, as though there’s nothing more to the story.

“But I didn’t believe you when you said it,” Conner says, and I hold my breath for a brief second.

“Are you kidding?” I say in a slightly brighter tone. “Even someone with terrible vision could see that Ash is attractive.”

“I’m not debating his looks. I’m simply saying that I don’t believe they’re a contributing factor to your leaving your room after curfew.”

I instinctively glance toward the door, which I’m sure he notices and interprets as me wanting to avoid his question.

He waits.

I sigh, trying to show him that I’m going to tell him what he wants to know. “You told me you were worried I might not be able to keep up in history. Well, I’m competitive, like everyone else here, and I didn’t want to be behind. I noticed that Ash is a strong analyst and I wanted to convince him to tutor me.”

Conner considers my words. “Hmmm. I see. And that night, after you met with him, which route did you take back to your room again?”

Oh, shit. Ash was wrong—I did not do well in my first interview. “When I spoke with you and Headmaster Blackwood, we covered—”

“Take me through it step by step,” Conner says, and puts his pen down to watch me more closely.

I take a deep breath, trying to slow my heart, but it doesn’t work. “The moment I came back in the building, I was moving fast. I—”

“Which door did you come through?”

“The one at the east end of the vine courtyard.”

“Uh-huh, go on,” he says. “Details, please.”

“As I said, I was moving fast because I knew it was late, and there’s really nothing to tell. I went up the stairs and down the hallway. And when I got back to my room, that guard spotted me,” I say, attempting to keep my voice light and my hands from fidgeting.

“When I said details, I meant details, November.” Conner’s tone is sharp. “Which staircase? Which hallway?”

It feels like the temperature suddenly went up ten degrees. I roll up my sleeves. “The hallway that my dorm room is in and the staircase by way of the courtyard.” I only hope that my leading with the thing that’s true means he won’t get a clear read that I’m lying.

“Blackwood and I questioned the guard who saw you,” he says, and my palms start to sweat. “And unfortunately for you, that night, the guard patrolled the girls’ dormitory from a different direction than he usually does.” He adds this in a way that makes me think he’s closing in on his one-two punch.

I make a conscious effort to stay still and not let him see me squirm.

Conner is silent, drawing out the time, knowing that I’m hanging on his every word. “The guard usually enters the dormitory area from the west end of the hallway. But that night he used the staircase and hallway at the east end.” Conner smiles. “The same staircase that you supposedly took to return to your room. If you did in fact take that staircase and hallway, you would have been right in front of him. Unless you expect me to believe that you were in that staircase with him, yet so quiet and so invisible that he didn’t hear or see you?”

My pulse races, but I stay silent. I know by now that not talking when you get caught is way better than covering a lie with another lie.

“Well?” he says.

“I don’t know,” I say, and I feel a bead of sweat form above my upper lip.

“You don’t know or you’re lying?” he says with a smugness that’s infuriating.

My mind is racing. “It seems strange that a guard who takes the same route every single night suddenly decides to change his routine,” I say to throw the focus off me. But now that I’ve said it, it does seem odd.

With that, the smugness in Conner’s expression disappears, like I just disrupted his favorite game. His eyes narrow slightly. “That doesn’t change the fact that he was in that staircase and you could not have been.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to explain it to you. I’m just as confused as you are. Maybe you should question the guard further. Perhaps he’s not telling you something.”

We stare at each other for a few more seconds, and I know in my gut that while I may have won this round, the fight is only beginning. Conner is out for blood, and right now he thinks I’m guilty. Not that I entirely blame him, with all the lies I’ve told.

He puts his folder down on the maroon cushion and readjusts his blazer, picking a piece of lint off his shoulder. When he speaks next, his voice is smooth and calm. “Tell me about your conflict with Matteo.”

“It’s simple. He hates me and I don’t understand why,” I say, relieved to have something completely true to say.

“I’m surprised you don’t understand, considering who you are to each other.”

My heart skips a beat. “What did you just say?” Ash and Layla were right. Even though I don’t know who people are here, that doesn’t mean they don’t know who I am.

Conner gives me a look. “Pay attention, November. I said, I’m surprised you don’t understand, considering how you are with each other. I heard about your little altercation in the courtyard earlier.”

I give Conner a sideways look. That is not what he said. It’s also entirely possible he knows and is messing with me, trying to see how I’ll react. “He nearly pulled me out of the tree.”

“So you tried to start a fight with him?” Conner says.

“No,” I say, scratching my arm even though it’s not itchy. “I just wanted to get him to stop attacking me.”

“By attacking him?”

“By confronting him,” I say with sincerity.

“Well, I would stay away from him if I were you,” says Conner. “I don’t think causing more conflict is wise at this juncture. Do you?”

I just look at him, knowing that anything I say right now will only make it worse for me.

Conner crosses his legs and leans back. “You also told Headmaster Blackwood that you wanted to go home.”

My heart thuds.

He takes his time. “It’s odd that you would ask to go home after everything your family did to get you into this school so late. Unless…possibly you’re running away from something?”

“I’m…” I desperately want to ask him what my dad did to get me in here, but something tells me that letting Conner know I’m ignorant of that would be a very bad idea. I rub the back of my neck. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” he repeats, leaning into the words.

“I’m actually not sure why I said I wanted to go home. I think I was just frustrated at being questioned so intensely about a murder I didn’t commit.”

“If you didn’t commit the murder, the questioning shouldn’t frustrate you,” he says.

“Well, I’m not perfect,” I say.

Conner seems like he doesn’t buy it. “I look forward to our next talk, November. I believe you have a lot to think about. Although I don’t suggest lying to Headmaster Blackwood again. It will end badly for you if you do.”

I’m not sure which lie he’s alluding to, and I get the sense that might be the point—to make me nervous about all of them. I get up. “Can I go?”

He nods and I don’t hesitate. The moment his door closes behind me, I shudder. They actually think I did it. And the truth is, even I think I look like a suspect. I had a reason to get back at Matteo, I was out that night, and a guard saw me coming from the hallway where Stefano’s body was discovered. Ash warned me I might take the fall. But somehow I never expected that I would get punished for something I didn’t do.

I head full-speed away from Conner’s office, and almost walk smack into Aarya.

“November!” she says in a bright tone. “Just the girl I wanted to see. I hear you’re missing something.”

I take a good look at her. If she’s in a happy mood, it can’t mean anything good. “Besides losing my patience if you don’t move, I’m not missing a thing,” I say, stepping to the side to go around her. But she steps with me, blocking my path.

“Oh, I think you might be. It’s a little something, but it says a lot.” She’s using her American accent again.

“Either spit it out, Aarya, or get out of my way,” I say, not in the mood for her games.

“Mrrrow.” She curls her fingers at me like a cat. “Someone’s testy today. I take it your meeting with Dr. Conner didn’t go well? Tough luck. I bet mine will, though. I think he’ll be very interested to know I found one of your hairs in my room this morning.”

I laugh to cover the stomach-sinking horror I’m feeling. “You’re really obsessed with me, aren’t you, Aarya? Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. But analyzing some hair you found is going a little too far, don’t you think?” I scan my memory of the moments I was in her room. Did I touch my hair? I guess I could have knocked one loose. Or maybe it was on my cloak and dropped off.

“There’s good news and bad news, Ember. Can I call you that?”

“No.”

“The good news is that I wasn’t actually sure the hair was yours. The bad news is that you just convinced me that it is. I’m shocked”—she makes a dramatic display of widening her eyes and touching her heart—“that Ash and Layla didn’t teach you how to sneak around properly. I was sure we had higher standards at this school. But I guess we’re slipping, letting any old body in this place.” She sighs.

I step around her, and this time she lets me pass.

She laughs. “You really shouldn’t break into other people’s rooms, Ember, unless you’re prepared for the consequences.” There’s something joyfully threatening about her tone, like a psychotic clown in a horror movie.

I keep walking.

“Kiss kiss!” she yells after me.