I shake my head, trying to convince her and that staring guard that I know what she’s talking about. But the truth is, I’m more confused than I was before. What do chambermaids and best friends have to do with this school?

“Sit, Nova,” Dad says, gesturing at the couch.

I plop down and pull my favorite red-and-cream-plaid blanket over my legs.

Dad sits next to me. He rubs the palm of his callused hand with his thumb and is silent for a few long seconds. “I don’t have enough time to explain everything if you’re going to get on that plane tonight. Besides, there’s nothing you need to know right now. I’ll take care of everything here. In the meantime, you go learn some new knife skills and survival tactics.”

I frown at him. It’s not unlike him to speak around things. But there’s something in his voice that unsettles me, a crack in his confidence. “Did something happen to Aunt Jo that you’re not telling me?”

He looks tired. “I don’t know all the details. Which is part of the reason I need to go and help sort things out and make sure everything and everyone is safe.”

“Okay,” I say slowly. “But you told me she had a break-in. That’s not the worst, is it? I mean, even if it has something to do with your old CIA life, do you really think it warrants sending me off to some—”

“Nova, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?” His expression doesn’t give anything away, but there is a gravity to his tone.

“Of course,” I say, and I want to push the issue, but every time he’s ever told me to trust him, he’s done it for a reason. And every time he’s been right.

He nods and some of the tension seems to leave his eyes.

We’re quiet for a few seconds, all the unanswered questions hanging between us like thick fog.

He watches me. “I understand that it must feel sudden, but I don’t have a lot of good choices at present. I just know I can’t take any chances where you’re concerned. If your aunt is in any kind of danger, then we very well might be, too. I want to clear up whatever is going on and be certain it doesn’t spill into our lives here.”

I don’t bother asking him what would happen if it did. Because I know. He would do whatever he needed to protect me, including move us. He told me that once when I was little and I’ve never forgotten it. There are few things I love more than living in Pembrook, and if I have to go to some remote school for a few weeks while he sorts things out to keep us from having to move away, I most certainly will.

He laughs suddenly and catches me off guard. “Do you remember the time that man kicked his dog and Aunt Jo kicked him? He threatened to call the police on her and she said, ‘Do it. I hope they send me to jail. It’ll give me lots of time to contemplate how I’m going to kill you when I get out.’ ”