I lean back into the couch, trying to give him the impression that I’m comfortable and have nothing to hide. “What do you want to know?”

“You and Ashai have been spending a lot of time together,” he says like he’s daring me to disagree.

“He’s my roommate’s brother. It would be hard to avoid him if I wanted to,” I say.

“Do you want to?” he asks.

These mind games are the worst. “Not particularly.”

“Because you find him attractive?” he says.

“You already heard me say that to Headmaster Blackwood,” I reply casually, as though there’s nothing more to the story.

“But I didn’t believe you when you said it,” Conner says, and I hold my breath for a brief second.

“Are you kidding?” I say in a slightly brighter tone. “Even someone with terrible vision could see that Ash is attractive.”

“I’m not debating his looks. I’m simply saying that I don’t believe they’re a contributing factor to your leaving your room after curfew.”

I instinctively glance toward the door, which I’m sure he notices and interprets as me wanting to avoid his question.

He waits.

I sigh, trying to show him that I’m going to tell him what he wants to know. “You told me you were worried I might not be able to keep up in history. Well, I’m competitive, like everyone else here, and I didn’t want to be behind. I noticed that Ash is a strong analyst and I wanted to convince him to tutor me.”

Conner considers my words. “Hmmm. I see. And that night, after you met with him, which route did you take back to your room again?”

Oh, shit. Ash was wrong—I did not do well in my first interview. “When I spoke with you and Headmaster Blackwood, we covered—”

“Take me through it step by step,” Conner says, and puts his pen down to watch me more closely.

I take a deep breath, trying to slow my heart, but it doesn’t work. “The moment I came back in the building, I was moving fast. I—”

“Which door did you come through?”

“The one at the east end of the vine courtyard.”

“Uh-huh, go on,” he says. “Details, please.”

“As I said, I was moving fast because I knew it was late, and there’s really nothing to tell. I went up the stairs and down the hallway. And when I got back to my room, that guard spotted me,” I say, attempting to keep my voice light and my hands from fidgeting.

“When I said details, I meant details, November.” Conner’s tone is sharp. “Which staircase? Which hallway?”