Speaking of which, where is Izzy? I’ve been expecting her to show up. Her older brother, Roman, is already here, sitting quietly at the other end of the table.

Izzy King is my other best friend. She’s half Korean, an avid gamer, and one of the cleverest people I know. Growing up, she was the only girl around my age from the New York branch of the Families, so we were always together. I was really hoping to see her before she goes back to Massachusetts at the end of winter break.

“Ada won’t have trouble with her cover,” Kor assures the room. “She’ll need to blend into a school where they already expect her to be an outsider. If anything, her being an average teenager will make her cover stronger.” Average teenager. Ouch, Kor. “Regardless of everything else, she was abducted because of her abilities. For that reason alone, we should send her to Genesis, where they can keep her safe.”

“I agree,” Dr. Ambrose says.

“So do I,” my mother says, speaking for the first time this whole meeting. She has otherwise been perfectly content to let all the other people in the room plan my life out for me. And how does her makeup and blond bun look so fresh? It seems impossible that she’s been stuck in this room for as many hours as my sweaty, frizzy, haggard self. Everyone here has probably forgotten we’re even related.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s what she wants, for them to forget. Maybe I’m an embarrassment for only getting initiated into the order on a technicality, for not having any of the accolades her friends get to brag about their talented kids having.

As I mope, the argument that I should go to Genesis as a matter of safety seems to be winning over most of the table.

“We will have to consult the Grand Master,” Councilor Avellino says, with the snobbery of knowing he’s one of the only people in the room with the security clearance to speak directly with the head of the Families.

As I let the Chamber continue their decision making about my future without bothering to ask my opinion on the matter, I lean over to Kor and whisper, “Where’s Izzy?”

“She’s not coming,” he whispers back. “I’ll explain later.” His eyes hold a sadness that makes my rib cage tighten with alarm.

Right before I left for Italy, Izzy had texted me that she didn’t think I should go, though she didn’t tell me why. When she didn’t respond to any of my messages while I was gone, I figured it was just because of the time difference, or that she was being pissy that I was missing our annual winter break snowboarding trip. Now I worry her silence was due to something more significant.