He waits a beat, and I can practically see the wheels in his head turning, making decisions about me. It’s strangely uncomfortable to be assessed when you don’t know what people are looking for or what types of conclusions they are coming to.

Conner leans back on the couch, and his casual posture almost appears welcoming, like I’m talking to one of my friends’ dads, not an uptight assessment officer. Dad. A pang of homesickness grips my empty stomach.

“How much do you know about the Academy, November?” Conner asks.

“Very little,” I say, and I can tell by his look that he takes it as the truth.

“Headmaster Blackwood asked that I speak to you a bit about our history and what is expected of you here,” he says, and I lean forward.

“Yes, please.” At this point I’ll take all the info I can get.

He folds his hands in his lap. “But,” he says with emphasis, “this brief introduction will not make up for the plethora of information that you have missed in your first two years.”

I get the sense that he’s warning me, which is baffling. Why would they let me in if they were so worried about everything I’ve missed?

“Before we get into all that, though—Headmaster Blackwood made rule number one clear to you, did she not?”

“Never reveal personal information about yourself or your family,” I say.

Conner nods. “We also ask that you use precautions with any students you might recognize. We understand it’s inevitable that some of you will know each other. But it’s in those moments when you are most comfortable that you will be the most vulnerable,” he says, and again I get the feeling that he’s fishing for something.

“Not a problem,” I say. “I don’t know anyone.”

He looks at me for a long moment and clears his throat. “Now, let’s see here….The Academy was designed and built by the original Council of Families as an elite institution for their best and brightest children. It was the first time that all of the Families worked together toward a common goal. It was agreed then, as it is still agreed today, that strategic excellence and safety among their children be prioritized above politics.”

Now I’m officially lost. I want to ask him What politics? but he continues speaking before I can open my mouth.

“I cannot tell you the exact date this school was founded, as its secrecy has prevented some of that information from being recorded, although many estimate that it was approximately fifteen hundred years ago, roughly a thousand years after the first three original Families formed. What I can tell you is that Academy Absconditi has been housed in this particular building since 1013.” He lifts his chin a little higher, as though that’s a mark of pride.

Families—there’s that word again. When I questioned Layla about it, she acted like I was being intentionally annoying. Conner clearly assumes I know what it means, too, and I’m not sure I want him to know that I don’t. I nod as if I’m following.