“I’ll tell her,” Layla says quietly as the door to the hallway closes. Despite having been locked in the dungeon herself, Layla is as poised and unruffled as always. Her long dark hair is loose and slides over her shoulder in a glossy wave. “While I may find your effusive behavior questionable, Pippa’s a nice person and I know she would appreciate a goodbye from you.” There’s no fanfare in Layla’s voice, as though she believes politeness is simply perfunctory.

I nod at her, grateful.

“Also, since you and Ash are leaving tonight, it’s time to talk about where you think your father is,” she says, and my anxiety comes back full-force. “Is your father the type to go directly after his Family in retribution for killing your aunt? Or will he hide out and gather information, opting for a subtler approach?”

“I want to say he’s not the revenge type,” I say, and bite my thumbnail. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned at this school, it’s how little I actually know about my own father.” I look up at Layla. “I can only assume that whatever he’s planned is dangerous. Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent me here.”

“Okay, that’s a start,” Layla says with her usual studious expression. “If he decided to infiltrate Lion territory, that would certainly qualify as unsafe.”

I sit on the edge of my bed. “That conclusion is exactly what kept me up half the night.”

Layla tucks her hair behind her ear and sits down on the bed next to me. “If he’s going after the Lions, it likely means he’s somewhere in the UK. It’s the seat of their power, it’s where Jag resides, and it’s where their allies are the strongest.” She readjusts her position on the bed to better face me. “Our Family has contacts in the UK. Everyone’s Family does.” She pauses. “I’m just concerned that our Wolf Family contacts may not provide assistance to you and Ash. Not all of our Family dislikes the Lions as much as we do.” She looks at me like she’s just made a decision. “And you’re not going to be able to track down your father without some help.”

I stare back at her, trying to decipher the secondary meaning of her simple statement. “I agree, Lay. But what are you suggesting?”

“That you use your Bear contacts,” she says.

“But I don’t know who they are.”

“Maybe not, but Matteo does,” Layla says, and I wince.

“You don’t really expect me to ask Matteo for help, do you? What are the chances that will go well? He hates me,” I say.

“I didn’t say it would be easy, I said it would be smart,” she replies matter-of-factly.

I exhale. Making it through this one last “normal” day just got more complicated.

Chapter Three