“Technically, she doesn’t have to explain,” Ash says. “His reaction made it clear he was the guilty one, not you. But also, she may have chosen not to explain his motives in detail because she doesn’t want to emphasize the divide between the Bears and the Lions. Everyone assumes that Charles killed Stefano because of politics—that’s the obvious reason. As you may have noticed, everything comes down to politics and alliances when you’re Strategia. And I’m sure a handful of people figured out that he tried to pin the murder on you, with the intention of taking out two Bears at once. It could have been three if Matteo had reacted to you differently and dropped you out of that tree. The bottom line is, Charles was trying to weaken your Family, which is nothing new.”

“But Blackwood”—I can barely get the words out—“executed him in front of the whole school.”

Ash nods slowly and gives me a thoughtful look. “Yes. But it was a fast death, and she could have lost another of her students if she hadn’t reacted quickly. Almost did.” He watches me. “That really shook you, didn’t it?”

“I…Yes,” I say, but I don’t explain further. What’s there to add when you’ve just seen someone killed in cold blood?

We’re both silent for an awkward beat.

“So then is it over?” I ask. “Now that Charles is…now that Blackwood caught the murderer.”

“Weeell,” Ash says. “Layla’s worried that we haven’t been given our punishments for those marks.”

“Wait, we? Meaning me and you? For being out past curfew?” It seems like such a small worry in comparison to what I witnessed today.

“Me and you,” he repeats, and I can tell by his voice that something’s wrong. “We should have been assigned a punishment by now. Charles was accused and proven guilty; everything’s supposed to go back to normal. Except it hasn’t.”

I readjust the pillow behind my back. “Okay. What does that mean?”

“I don’t know yet,” he says, although I get the sense that there’s something he’s not telling me. He takes his cloak off. “I need you to tell me more about your father.”

My uneasiness increases. “What do you want to know?”

“Did he grow up in a major city? Do you remember which countries he traveled to?”

I clamp my lips together and start to fidget. “Look—”

“I know,” he says, and I stop.

“You know what?”