I look up at Blackwood for some indication of what’s going on, but her expression is blank. She definitely isn’t acting like the suggestion of a possible drugging is outrageous.

I stand up. My instinct is to run. Except I don’t have a clue where I am, other than a vague sense that I’m in a rural area, judging by the lack of noise. “Ms. Blackwood, can I use the phone? I’m not sure this is…I just need it for a minute.” I scan her desk, but there doesn’t seem to be one.

“Unfortunately, no, you may not.”

“I’m sure this is a great school, but—”

She puts up her hand to stop me, like she understands me perfectly but is unwilling to indulge my concerns at present. “Before you leave this office or communicate with anyone, you must understand and agree to the rules.” She pauses. “Also, I’ll ask that you call me Headmaster Blackwood. We pride ourselves on tradition here.”

I stare at her, at a loss for words, something my best friend, Emily, will verify has only happened once before.

Blackwood gestures for me to sit down. “Now, I suggest you relax and pay close attention. Some of what you want to know, I’m about to explain to you.”

I reluctantly sit. Dad told me this school would challenge me in strange ways, and even though I find it all wicked suspicious, I trust him. He wouldn’t put me in danger. In fact, that’s the whole reason I’m here—to keep me out of it. I lean back in the worn leather armchair, tucking one of my feet under me.

Blackwood raises an eyebrow as she takes note of my slouched posture. She stares down at me and lifts her chin almost like she would lift me up if she could will it through her thoughts. “Your sudden arrival was unforeseen. It’s not our policy to admit new students midyear—midsemester, no less.” She looks at me expectantly.

“Thanks for making an exception…,” I say, invoking my manners even though the words feel stiff in my mouth. I don’t like the way she says admit, like this is a long-term thing. Dad told me it would only be for a few weeks, just until he could clear up the break-in at Aunt Jo’s. Then I’d return to my house in sleepy Pembrook and everything would go back to the way it was.

Blackwood opens a black fabric journal marked with a satin ribbon and scans the page. “Before I tell you about Academy Absconditi and its student body, there are three rules that are absolutely nonnegotiable. They must be obeyed at all times and they apply not only to students, but to faculty as well.” She folds her hands over her papers. “The first is that you do not speak, write, or in any other way communicate about your life outside these walls. Not what town you lived in, not who you’re related to. Not your last name or the names of people you know. I understand that you’re particularly gregarious, and I just want to make myself extra clear that if you break this rule, you not only put yourself in danger, but also put your family in danger.”