If I can’t manage to lie to Layla and Ash, then I can’t lie to Blackwood, or whoever is doing the interrogation. They’ll know immediately. But I can’t exactly tell them I found a dead body, either. “Do I say anything about what I saw?”

“If that’s a joke, it’s not funny,” she says, and a bit of anger creeps back into her tone.

I have no idea how I’m going to get through this day or the possible questioning without making myself look guilty. I want to cry every time I think about Stefano lying there in the dark. I push my plate away.

Layla watches me. “I suggest eating. You’ll need energy for whatever is coming next.”

I walk behind Layla as two lines of silent students in black cloaks file through the vine doorway and into the courtyard where the archery class was held. I can’t help but think that it looks like we’re going to a funeral.

“Professor Messer,” Layla whispers to me like a warning.

I immediately translate Messer as German for “knife,” triggering the image of Stefano’s bloody chest to flash through my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second and when I open them again the teacher is looking straight at me.

Professor Messer is a short muscular woman with lots of small scars on her hands.

“I’ve been told you’re skilled with knives and will be able to keep up,” Messer says, and takes a good look at me. She speaks with a German accent. “I have no intention of spending part of my class reviewing things already learned by the elemental students.”

Everyone looks at me and it’s obvious from the disdain on their faces that not being able to keep up here is humiliating.

“I’ll keep up,” I say, and my voice sounds weak. Layla shoots me a disapproving look.

I drop a small knife toward my foot and try to kick it back up in the air with my toe, but it arcs out and away from me before I can grab it.

Dad watches me from the porch and laughs. “What in the world are you doing?”

I hold the knife in the air above my foot. “I learned this thing in soccer today and I thought maybe I could do it with my knife.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Well, no one can accuse you of not having an imagination.”

I manage to kick the knife up, but it’s a little too far away for me to catch it. “Imagination, shmagination,” I say. “This is going to be so cool.”

I hang my cloak next to Layla’s on the vine-covered wall. She leans in. “Unless you want to explain why you didn’t report a dead body last night and go to the dungeon, you need to stop wearing your emotions all over your face.” Her voice is fierce even in a whisper.

I take a deep breath and we join the nine other students. Of course the first day I’m expected to perform in class would be the morning after I stumbled upon a dead body. And to make things more interesting, Nyx, Brendan, and Charles are here, and so are Aarya and Ines. I find it strange that none of them have made a snide remark or thrown me any pointed looks, which they all have made a habit of these past few days. The change in behavior makes me wonder if they already know about Stefano. I glance at the arched doorway; I keep expecting one of the guards to come pluck me from class and shackle me.