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“The Chancellor’s office wasn’t bad,” Sabrina says.
Anna gives her a sharp look. “Be careful, Sabrina. Just because he was lenient once, don’t make the mistake of thinking he’s all bark. Remember what he did to Ozzy’s mom.”
I don’t know who Ozzy is, or what happened to his mom, but I’m guessing it wasn’t good.
“You’re right,” Sabrina says. And then, with an apologetic look at Chay, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Chay says, squaring her shoulders. “Ozzy’s doing great. Honestly, I just want to get this damn school year over and done with so we’re not long-distance anymore.”
“You guys are gonna have to share a room,” Anna tells us. “Alyssa Chan demanded the single.”
Sabrina laughs. “She was trying to buddy up with me in Dubrovnik—guess she changed her mind.”
I feel a little flush of relief that Sabrina doesn’t seem to mind rooming with me, even after everything that happened.
Anna is still watching me as the two older girls show us our room on the second floor.
“It’s for the best,” Chay says. “That single is the size of a closet. Remember poor Zoe trying to squeeze in there?”
Anna laughs. “That seems like a hundred years ago.”
I’m reminded again how small my network is, compared to all these people known to Sabrina.
Our dorm room is no closet—it’s open and spacious, with twin beds pushed up against opposite walls, a carved wardrobe, and a stunning view.
Anna and Chay look around nostalgically.
“We stayed here first year,” Anna says.
“I almost like it better than our room on the top floor,” Chay says. “The one we have now is bigger, but the window looks the other way over the grounds. I liked the ocean.”
“It’s tradition, though,” Anna says. “The Seniors get the Lord’s room. This one probably belonged to a Lady-In-Waiting.”
“Or a mistress.” Chay grins.
Anna seems to remember we were supposed to be hurrying.
“Drop your bags off!” she says. “No time to unpack right now. Dinner’s only an hour long, and we already missed half of it.”
“Which bed do you want?” I ask Sabrina.
“I’ll take left,” she says.
“I’m right then,” I say, throwing my duffle down on the rough gray blanket stretched over the mattress with military precision.
“We’ll wait outside for you to change,” Chay says, eyeing my cargo pants. “They’re not fussed abouthowyou wear the uniform, but you are supposed to wear it.”
“Right.” I nod. “I’ll be quick.”
5
The Spy aka Ares Cirillo
I’m standing at the window of the Octagon Tower when Anna and Chay cross the lawn, followed closely by two Freshmen girls. Through the bubbled glass I see them: Sabrina Gallo, and the other girl, tall and fit, with a mane of flaming red hair trailing down her back. She’s dressed in military gear, an olive-green duffle bag slung over her shoulder.
The loathing that boils up inside of me is immediate and intense.
She looks like her father.
