“However”—something sharp flashes through Dean McKinnon’s eyes—“there are consequences for your blatant disrespect for program policies and the disregard for your own written agreement to follow them.” I open my mouth, but he silences me with a look. “I will be placing phone calls to both of your parents after this meeting, and you will both report to a peer mentor the rest of the semester. A second-year Early College student who has excelled in the program by making better choices.”

I gape, heat creeping up the back of my neck. “We don’t need babysitters.”

“Apparently,” Dean McKinnon says with a raised brow, “you do.”

“Thank you, Dean McKinnon,” Alice says evenly.

“You’re dismissed, Ms. Chen.” We both stand, but he gestures for me to stay. “Ms. Matthews, a moment.”

My stomach sinks like a dropped anchor. Why would he want to speak to me alone? Alice hesitates for a moment and our eyes lock; then she exits and the door clicks softly behind her.

The dean studies me and drills his fingers on the desk in the ensuing silence. Tadum-tadum-tadum. My heart races while I wait for him to speak. Does he know what I saw? Does he know about the Legendborn?

“Deputy Norris reported that you… got an attitude with him last night.”

My mouth falls open. “An attitude? I barely said a word to him. He’s the one who—”

Dean McKinnon stops me with a raised palm. “There are no excuses for disrespect to law enforcement. No excuses for back talk.”

“I didn’t—”

“If you’ll let me finish,” he says. I clench my teeth, and my fingers curl into fists on my thighs. Alice is passive and I’m disrespectful? White-hot fury rises in my gut, my chest, my jaw. “Fortunately, I explained to Deputy Norris that this is a difficult time for you, and a new environment that’s”—he offers a patronizing smile—“different from what you’re used to.”

What I’m used to? My mind spirals. First the racist cop, then the dean believing him without giving me a chance to explain, and now…?

“Your mother is—”

“Was,” I correct him, automatic even as my brain processes the hard turns in our conversation.

He inclines his head. “Was. Yes, of course. Your mother was an esteemed alumna in her department. She was an advanced student: patents for biochemical testing processes, leading-edge work in soil science. I didn’t know her personally, but our time as undergraduates here overlapped.”

I will my hands to stop shaking, and I inhale slowly. He caught me off guard, but I have my defenses. I close my eyes and imagine my wall stretching up, up, up.

“I just wanted to say that I am sorry for your—”

My eyes snap open. “She’s not lost.” The words erupt from my mouth.