I slowly set my fingertips on the knob and twist. It’s open. I step past the threshold and flip on the lights. Inside is an ornate wooden conference room with mahogany tables and chairs. Huge paintings of the Oligarchy hang from the walls.

I frown. None of this looks like it did in my dreamscape.

Another door stands ajar at the back of the room. I walk through it and enter a long, open space dripping in cobwebs. My breath catches. This is the old senate offices, exactly the way they were before the war. My heart starts beating like crazy.

“Hey, Myla.”

I jump a bit and gasp. “Oh, Cissy. I didn’t see you there.”

“Didn’t you hear me calling you on the way over?”

I run my finger along a dusty desktop. “I guess I was a little distracted.” I peep at the empty space behind her. “Where’s Zeke?”

Cissy shrugs. “I told him I’d meet up with him later.” She eyes my fighting suit. “Another Arena match today?”

“Of sorts.”

“You’re going once or twice a month now.” She shakes her head from side to side. “I’m worried about you.”

I open my mouth, ready to tell her everything, then close it just as quickly. “I’m fine, Cissy.”

“You’re always saying that lately.” She steps around the dim space. “What are you doing in here? This is nasty old office space they used before the war. It’s been boarded up for ages.”

“Mom was a Senator in the old Republic. Her team worked in this office.”

Cissy’s tawny eyes open wide. “Wow.” She sets her hand on her rib cage. “How long have you known that?”

“Since I first visited the library. I found a book about it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. It’s private stuff.” Guilt worms its way around my belly. Am I so proud that I can’t tell my best friend I’m part-ghoul?

“You never used to feel that way.” She steps to my side and gently sets her hand on my shoulder. “We’ve gabbed about your Mom’s pre-war ‘mystery history’ since we were kids. Remember that time we made sand castles at Canus Beach? You pretended your Mom fought demons in a tall tower. I said your father was the dragon King.”

My voice cracks when I speak. “Yeah, I remember.” I slowly lower myself into a rickety office chair, setting off a poof of cobwebs and dust. I cover my face with my hands.

Cissy kneels beside me. “Come on, Myla. There’s something bothering you and it’s more than your Mom being a Senator. You can tell me.”