“Sorry I bothered you,” I say instead. “And I’m sorry about Stefano. Really.” My mind spins, trying to come up with something, anything that will make him listen to me, because in three more seconds he’s going to disappear into his room and my chance will be gone. “I just came to say goodbye.”

Matteo closes his eyes momentarily, like my presence is exhausting. “I’m not in the mood to play games with you.”

“No game,” I say, and I scan the hall to make sure we’re alone. I pause, hoping this gamble doesn’t backfire. “I’m leaving the Academy tomorrow.”

He exhales and breaks eye contact, looking up at the wall. After three seconds and some head-shaking, he bangs the latch on his door with the side of his fist. The door swings open.

“Well, are you coming in?” he says, clearly displeased.

I don’t hesitate. I slip through the doorway and into his common room, where the blackout curtains are already drawn and the fireplace is lit for the evening.

“Speak quickly,” he says like he can’t get rid of me fast enough.

I move my loose braid over my shoulder and straighten my posture, working up some courage. Ever since he told me he was my cousin, I haven’t been able to unsee the resemblance. The last thing I ever thought I would find in this school was family. And now I have two cousins—Matteo and Brendan—one who hates me and the other who wants me dead.

I run through a few approaches in my head, but everything I want to say sounds awkward. So instead of asking him flat-out for help, I simply say, “I’m going to find my dad.”

Matteo huffs. “You’re here to talk to me about your Lion father? I really don’t care what happens to him.”

I take a step forward, frustration sparking in my chest at the suggestion that my dad is anything other than wonderful. “If you would listen for more than ten seconds you would see why you do care. And I’m sick of these Family lines. You’re a Bear. He’s a Lion. Who cares? Some people are terrible and some people aren’t. My dad is one of the good ones. End of story.”

Matteo’s fist clenches, and I start talking again before he decides to kick me out.

I take a breath, calming my voice. “After my aunt Jo died—scratch that, after our aunt Jo died—my dad sent me here. And as far as I can tell, he went to Europe to do something about it.”

“What do you mean by ‘do something about it’? What kind of something?” Matteo says, and I can tell by his insistent tone that this question matters.