He takes a breath. “Telling you was something your mom, Aunt Jo, and I debated many times. We needed to train you, to give you the tools you would eventually need to integrate into Strategia society. But we also recognized that you had a unique opportunity growing up in Pembrook, one that would make you a better person and a more compassionate Strategia. You got to be a kid, without the Lions and the Bears and the political discord. You got to be best friends with Emily, and do countless other things Strategia kids don’t get to do because they know too much and because their responsibility is too great. Tell me, would you trade that time if you got to do it all over again?”

I chew the inside of my cheek, trying to concoct an argument that would have let me have both the truth and my life in Pembrook. But he’s right. I could never have known and had a normal childhood.

My shoulders drop slightly. “No, I wouldn’t have traded it for the world, not even with the pain of giving it up.”

My dad looks relieved, like he had assumed so but he’s happy to hear me say it.

“When I found out who you guys really were, I thought that you and Mom and Aunt Jo had been in hiding, that you were completely divorced from Strategia. But that’s not true, is it?” I ask, trying to understand some of the missing pieces.

“We never wanted to leave Strategia. It was just the best choice in a bad situation.” He pauses. “You see, when your mom and I were young, we believed we could make Strategia the powerhouse for good that it had the potential to be. But it quickly became apparent that we couldn’t do that through uniting our Families, that we needed to find another way.” He takes a long look at me.

“By becoming the Ferryman?” I say, still a little mystified by the idea.

“That was part of it,” he says. “Your mom, Aunt Jo, and I didn’t want to stop our work, but we also couldn’t do our work under our own names. To tell you the truth, we had no intention of creating that alias; it just happened gradually, and over time we saw how useful it could be.”

I’m instantly reminded of Hisakawa’s last poisons class, where she said: Capitalize on what is already in your environment. Blend.

“So you were planning this Lion takeover my whole life?” I say, a little startled.

“Not exactly,” he says. “But as Jag aged, he became more vicious, and it became apparent that he couldn’t remain in power.”

“And Aunt Jo?” I ask.

For a brief moment pain appears in his expression. “There was an opportunity, one we couldn’t pass up—”

“To kill the Regent?” I ask.