“No one answered, so I went away. I thought she was asleep, but I came back an hour later. I knocked again, harder. I came back every hour—for the whole night.”

I glared at him. “And did I answer?”

He looked away. “No, you didn’t.”

East Keep smiled. “So, little miss perfect wasn’t in her room last night.”

West Keep leaned forward. “You’re not allowed to leave your room after lights out, you know.”

I wanted to point out that Jetson had been out of his room after lights out, but I bit my tongue, knowing it was no good.

Hannibal looked concerned. “If she wasn’t in her room, perhaps she has an excuse. Arika?”

I scoured my mind. I could say I was in Hosea’s room, but that wouldn’t put me on the right side of the rules—or Jones. I could say I was in the nurse’s office, but she wouldn’t lie for me. My best bet was to say I was sleeping. I’d hit my head and didn’t hear Jetson’s knock. It would be his word against mine. I had just opened my mouth to lie when Covington spoke.

“She was with me.”

We all turned to gawk at Covington.

Catching myself, I closed my mouth.

“Wait, who was with you?” one twin said.

Covington rolled her eyes. “Arika, you nut.”

“With you? But you hate Arika,” said the other.

Rather than deny her dislike, Covington shrugged flippantly. “I changed my mind.”

East Keep looked between us, her full cheeks flat with jealousy. The title of second most popular girl had been hers for years. “I don’t believe it,” she said, zeroing in on me. “What were you doing together?”

I lifted my chin. “We were talking.”

She snorted. “About what? Nothing we discuss could possibly be of interest to you,” she mocked, making the twins titter.

“What we talked about is none of your business,” Covington interrupted.

They stopped laughing.

“But, if you must know, we were discussing my nomination for Committee Vice Chair.”

East Keep’s wide mouth paled. “The Vice Chair? But—that’s already been decided.”

I looked between them. By law, the valedictorian of the class was named President of the Committee. The President, in turn, nominated a Vice Chair to keep order in her absence. When I gave up the Presidency to focus on my studies, I had assumed Covington would pick East Keep. The two were inseparable.

“Who—who will you nominate?” East Keep asked.

“As President, I nominate Arika Cobane for Vice Chair.”

East Keep slammed a hand on the table. “No! Arika doesn’t even want the Vice Chair. And I’ve wanted it forever!”

True. The President and Vice Chair got to pose for pictures in the Main Hall. We’d learned that fact early on in our secondary years, and East Keep had been angling for the honor since.