I don’t need Ash’s people-reading skills to know that this time he means exactly what he says. The room spins and I sit down next to him on the bed. Under normal conditions, if I were sitting on my bed with a boy who looked like Ash, all I’d be able to think about would be flirting. But right now all I’m thinking about is whether I could be executed for a murder I didn’t commit.

“We’re going up against the best-trained deception and tactical experts in the world. So I suggest you get in the game immediately. Everyone else is on the playing field and you’re sitting in the stands eating popcorn. Don’t think for a minute that your interview today with Blackwood was the end of it. The worst is coming.” Ash’s usual smooth-talking charm is absent.

I nod, because as much as I’d like to hide under my bed until this all goes away, his point is fair. “Okay. I’m obviously going to do what I have to in order to avoid taking the fall for murder. But I’m not going to do this dance with you, where you try to pull information out of me in ten kinds of sneaky ways. First nice, then serious, then pushy.” I pause. “If you’re right that someone wanted to implicate me, then someone knows or thinks they know something about me personally. And yes, gathering that same information is probably ninety percent of the reason you’re here right now, offering to work with me on this.”

Ash opens his mouth, but I raise my hand before he can say anything.

“No, let me finish. You know this school and these people better than I ever will. You’ve also had the training to give you tools to deal with this. You don’t need my detective skills; you need information on me. But I need information, too. You said you would tutor me in history if I told you personal things. Well, I’m not going to make it that easy. If I agree to do this with you, you’ve got to give something up, too. And you need to stop manipulating me.”

He watches me closely with his “I see your inner soul” expression that drives me nuts. “Perhaps.”

“I’m serious. No more toying with me. The first day we met you told me that I shouldn’t trust you, but here you are asking me to work with you to find a murderer.” I point at him. “And I don’t like that you look at me like you’re reading my mind. I feel like I’m always on the edge of a cliff when I talk to you.”

For a split second there’s something akin to shock in his expression. “You really enjoy bringing things out into the open, don’t you?”