“Stefano and Charles attended this school for two and a half years without a single fight between them,” Nyx says, her chin held high. “He’s exactly the same as he’s always been. And Stefano hasn’t changed, either. What is not the same in this school, the only thing that is different, is November.”

The students look from Nyx to me. I’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in my life. Ash leans slightly forward.

Blackwood sighs, like this is tedious for her.

“We all know there’s something wrong with her!” Nyx exclaims, thrusting a finger in my direction. Her voice has taken on a wild tone.

Charles stands now, too, and touches her arm, but Nyx doesn’t calm.

“Even her own Family members attack her,” Nyx says, and I can hear the ragged emotion in her voice. “Mark my words, if Charles is taking the fall for her this time, any of you could be next.”

“Guards,” Blackwood says, seemingly unbothered by the scene that’s erupting. She gestures for them to take Charles.

The two guards by the door step forward. Charles looks across the room at them and takes a step in the opposite direction. He glances at Blackwood and then at Conner, his body tensed, like a caged animal. I wonder if he’s contemplating running, and my heart beats wildly—only seconds ago I was thinking the same thing.

Suddenly Charles stops moving and looks over at me. The moment our eyes meet I can feel all his fear and anger. His chin juts out and his jaw is set in a hard line. He reaches under his cloak to his back and yanks out a knife. The steel blade shimmers in the candlelight. Gasps ripple through the room, and the students nearest him pull back. Behind him, Aarya’s eyes widen, and it occurs to me that perhaps this is the knife she lost.

The next seconds blur as Charles pulls back his arm and Blackwood yells “Stop!” But her command has no effect because the knife is already whizzing through the air, and I find myself frozen in the moment, waiting for it to strike. My heart gives one deafening thud and I close my eyes as the blade slices through skin with a tearing sound. Only it’s not my skin. My eyes fly open to find that Ash’s arm is in front of me, the knife protruding through his forearm, sticking an inch out the back.