I stare at the time projected over the table and count each second in my head. 20, 21, 22. The clinking of Mother’s fork and knife stops. She’s finished eating, and is watching the time, too. Is she hoping for my recruitment? Or does she secretly want me to stay so she doesn’t have to lose me?

54, 55, 56. My eyes are dry, so I blink. In that split second, the time changes to eight o’clock. I was counting too slow.

And then my holotab lights up.

The mini projectors hidden along the edges of the device produce a display above the screen: Lieutenant Victoria Hofhen, Embassy Official.

“Answer,” I say in a low, choked voice. Mother is looking the other way. “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Lance,” says the voice of Lieutenant Hofhen, who seems much calmer than she did at the exam. “You’ll be pleased to know you passed the Embassy Placement Report, and were one of two people who received a perfect score. The Chancellor’s council has selected you to be one of Cornell’s Recruits. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Lance. Please meet me at Cornell’s docking terminals by eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“I will.”

“Have a good day, Mr. Lance.”

The line disconnects. Mother still isn’t looking at me. I’m leaving. I am actually leaving. Tomorrow morning I’m boarding a hovercraft to the Embassy and from there I can board an expedition to Belvun and be rid of this planet once and for all.

“I’m proud of you, Arman.”

Mother is looking at me, her eyes red and cheeks going flush.

“You’ve worked so hard for this,” she says, nodding quickly to hold back tears. “H—he’d be so proud.”

Mother stares at me for several silent seconds. I don’t know what to say, because ‘thank you’ and ‘I love you’ don’t seem like they’d be enough. I feel like I’m back in the hospital, after the crash, when I could only stare back at her, unable to move or speak because of the drugs that numbed my body to keep the pain at bay. Mother had squeezed my hand and run her fingers through my hair, afraid to look away from me and follow the doctors to where they were keeping Father’s body. I had wanted to say how sorry I was, and that I was alive, and that Father asked about her and the twins. I wanted to say so much, but was unable.

Now I don’t know what to say.

Mother’s eyes flick to my holotab. “Have the others been announced?”

I drag the device toward me and activate it. Using a stylus, I scroll to the Embassy’s news feed and find the Recruit selection. Cornell is the fifth city listed.

“Glacia Haverns”—she passed?—“Ellin Mistin, John Mistin”—interesting, brother and sister—“and Michael Rafting.”