I exhale loudly, my mind once again reeling with fear for my dad. At the very least, I tell myself, Dr. Conner is gone and I’m finally free to leave the Academy. But the moment I think it, I feel ill. Dr. Conner isn’t gone, he’s dead, and his death had everything to do with me.

Ash’s look is almost apologetic. “I know you’ve been through a great deal, but I can’t stress enough how important it is that everything go smoothly tomorrow. We aren’t in the clear yet.” My stomach drops at the word we. Ash offered to go with me to help me find my dad—an offer that is likely to get him killed.

“No one can find out we’re leaving,” he continues in a calm voice. “You need to go to your classes with Layla as usual, eat in the dining hall, and study in the library as if everything is normal.”

I meet Ash’s gaze, giving him a look that questions the suggestion that this place was ever normal. “ ‘Been through a great deal’? Now there’s an understatement,” I say, making light of how upside down I feel. “It’s almost unbelievable to me that only a month ago I had no idea this bizarre boarding school even existed, that Strategia were real.” I gesture at the common room. “And despite dodging death a half dozen times and being framed for murder, my troubles are only just beginning because my dad is now being hunted by an assassin-like secret society of Families that is so effective it’s influenced the course of history for thousands of years.” I give Ash a please-make-light-of-this-with-me look, seeing as my sleep is already threatened by untold horrors.

“I cannot tell you things will get easier,” he says, and I groan. “In fact, they are about to get much worse.”

“Nailed it on the comforting.”

A small smirk appears on Ash’s face. “I’ll comfort you when I’m certain we’re not going to die.”

In spite of myself, I laugh. “That’s literally the worst thing you could have…Haven’t you ever heard of telling someone their outfit looks good when it doesn’t? White lies save hearts.”

“Your outfit looks good,” he replies, playfulness dancing in his eyes.

I look down at my rumpled uniform, which consists of a white button-down, black leggings, and black lace-up boots. “It does, doesn’t it?” I say. “I could win a pirate costume contest in this thing.”

Ash’s mouth pulls up into a smile, but his expression seems more than amused. He’s looking at me like I’m the most unusual and interesting person he’s ever met.

“Also, when did you get so worried about danger? Aren’t you usually the one making light of everything? You’re seriously slacking on your duties,” I say, blushing slightly under his admiring gaze.