“I don’t doubt it,” I say.

Ash begins to make his way down the hall at a leisurely pace like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye as we walk. Even if he doesn’t think I should have stood up for Layla, the fact that I did has to count for something, right?

“If you want to ask me something, just ask,” he says with a voice like silk.

I frown. He’s not even looking at me and still it feels like he’s reading my every move. “Do I need to worry about Aarya now?”

“Yes,” he says. “But not just because of that conversation. Attention from Aarya in general is a bad sign. What did she say to you? Maybe I can help you sort it out.”

“Actually, right before we left, Felix whispered ‘I know.’ ”

Ash nods. “Either he’s telling you he knows who you are, that he knows something you don’t want him to, or possibly he was just screwing with you in order to slip the fork into your pocket.”

“Well, he can’t know who I am because I’ve never met him before,” I say.

Ash looks doubtful. “That’s the most naïve logic I’ve heard in a long time. He could know who you are because he knows your family, or because he somehow knew you were coming to this school. There are lots of reasons people might deduce who you are here, and never having met you has nothing to do with it.”

I stare at him for a second. I want to tell him that I’m nothing like the rest of these students and that he’s dead wrong that people here could know me, but I’m sure I’d only be revealing information about myself if I did. “When did you know I was coming?”

The corners of his mouth turn up slightly. “Layla found out the night you arrived, just a few hours before you got here.”

I stare down the hall, trying to make sense of his answer. The only thing it tells me is that the school knew I was coming, which of course they did. I find it hard to believe they would take me if I were dropped on their doorstep. But it doesn’t tell me how long they knew and how much my dad didn’t tell me.

“Did Aarya say anything else?” Ash asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“She wanted me to tell her how I got into this school so late.”

He stops in front of a door, and for some reason, he looks amused. “Do you always tell the truth?”

Great, how do I answer that? “Do you always stare at people with those laser eyeballs?”

He laughs, but it doesn’t lighten him.

We both stand there for a beat. I reach for the door latch, but he gets to it first.

He holds the door open for me. “The advanced students’ parlor.” He sweeps his hand in front of him.