“Cheers,” Sean and I said at the same time.

Every year since we were big enough to be left under Sean’s supervision, we held a movie marathon on Mom and Dad’s anniversary. Even after he went to college, he always came back to carry on the tradition.

Somehow, this year seemed much more important. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that I’d be graduating soon or if it was the recent distance between me and Tessa, or everything that had shifted within me because of Amber.

A lump formed in my throat, so large it was hard to swallow around it.

Everything was changing, but this—sitting with my brother and sister, watching our favorite movie of all time—this would stay the same. It would be our constant. No matter what. The notion was more comforting than I’d ever realized.

An hour into the movie, I contemplated the odds that Amber had chosen her hacker handle as a slight homage to the great AcidBurn, and was reminding myself to ask her when my cell buzzed loudly on the table.

“Boo!” Sean and Tessa hollered as I hopped up to answer it, thinking it might be Amber.

I was instantly deflated when I didn’t recognize the number on the screen. “Sorry!” I said, snapping at Tessa and miming her to pause it. She rolled her eyes but did as I stepped away to answer the call.

“Mr. Winters.” Tanner’s voice echoed on the other end of the line.

“Principal Tanner?” I asked, baffled at why I was merited a call on my cell from him.

I raised my free arm at Sean and Tessa’s curious gazes.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I need you to do something for me. It’s imperative.”

“Okay,” I said, wondering why this couldn’t wait until Monday.

“I’m assuming you’ve read or at least heard about the rebellious blog Ask Me Anything, am I right?”

“I’ve heard about it,” I said, pacing back and forth as I held the cell to my ear.

“Recent posts and protests from parents across the district have made it clear I need to take action.”

“Okay.”

“I need you to uncover the source behind the blog. The creator’s claims to be a Wilmont student have placed the academy under scrutiny.”

“What?” I asked. “I can’t do that.” I hadn’t read the blog religiously, but I knew it was anonymous.

“You must.”

“It would be a major privacy violation, not to mention unethical,” I explained. Not that all my hacks were completely pure, but I never did anything that would hurt someone—unless you counted messing with Sean, which I didn’t, because he started it.

“Winters,” he said, his tone sharp. “The person behind this blog is harming students’ lives. The content is damaging to their minds.”