The bouncer places a large wooden block on the ground in front of us. It’s covered in dark marks that I can only assume are bloodstains. I feel the color drain from my face, my heartbeat pulsing furiously in my temples. And as the guards drag my dad forward, I struggle.

“Are you all really going to let this happen?” I say angrily to the crowd, in a last-ditch effort to buy time, for Layla to show up, something. “Are you really going to let him kill his son and granddaughter without question? Maybe you will, maybe you’ll stand there, justifying our execution as punishment for breaking some archaic rule. Maybe you’ll ignore your misgivings about why the firstborn son of the Lion Family suddenly disappeared as a teenager, and the fact that he left because his own father put a hit on him. And even if you can make peace with all the things that don’t add up, how will you possibly explain away my friends? Is it right that Jag murder a group of Academy students without their Families, without the permission of the Council? A Jackal, a Fox, and the head Wolf’s son.”

Once again shock rolls through the crowd in the form of hushed conversations and worried looks.

“Enough!” Jag says, only it’s not the quiet tone he used to silence Aarya last night; it’s forceful, signaling a small crack in his composure.

But I keep talking, Ines’s words about defiance ringing in my head. “Ask yourselves this: Are you comfortable letting someone who would murder children rise to be the head of all Strategia? Strategia have rules; we have order. Jag breaks all those rules and yet he still runs this Family. How can this be? How can he be allowed to kill off the most talented students at the Academy, of all places, a time-honored institution where the child of every Family is an equal?” When I stop speaking, my dad is staring at me, proud.

There are a couple of gasps in the crowd. I can tell Jag wants to muzzle me, too, but is too prideful to let it look like the only way he can control the situation is by gagging everyone.

“The ramblings of a guilty child,” Jag says like it’s all very sad that I’m so desperate, but his eyes are angry.

“If you don’t believe me, ask them.” I nod at my friends, speaking as fast as I can, hoping my words are connecting. “Ask Brendan. He’s not a good enough liar to hide it. And then ask yourselves: What if your children, cousins, brothers, sisters are next because they disagree with Jag? Because the Lions are not the problem here. I refuse to believe it’s the Lions. My dad’s a Lion. I’m a Lion. The person who is abusing his rule, the person who is killing other Strategia without cause, is Jag.”