I looped my pack around my neck. “Not now, Covington, I’m behind as it is. I mean, thanks for covering for me, but—”

Her eyes flashed. “I said, sit down.”

“Why?”

She touched her chin. “Well, let’s see—because if you don’t, I’ll tell Jones exactly what happened last night.”

“After lying to save me? Why would you do that?”

She ticked off the reasons on her jeweled fingers. “Because I don’t like you. Because you’re a traitor and a rat. Because I can? Mostly, I’ll turn you in, Arika, because East Keep was right. All you care about is yourself. Your reputation, your marks, your schedule. That’s all you’ve cared about for seventeen years, but you’re going to change. You’re going to change tonight.”

“Was she right about you?” I shot back. “Bidding for the Silver Award? Studying in secret? Not wanting to come in second?”

Covington laughed. “I don’t regret my choices. Do you?”

I lifted my chin. “Get to the point. What is it you want?”

Her tone went flat. “I want answers. I assume you spent the night in the village, nursing the workers?”

“How do you know about that?”

“I’ll tell you once I know whether I can trust you. Now sit.”

Curious, I sat, thinking. She must have overheard my conversation with Jetson. She’d seen me sneak out and guessed where I was going. “I was in the sick room,” I admitted.

“How bad is it?”

Her concern surprised me. “Bad when I got there. Better now,” I said.

She nodded.

“And you exposed yourself to risk—just to help? Not for any other reason?”

“No other reason,” I lied, smoothly, then reiterated the truth. “I wanted to help.”

She sat back. The gold hoops in her ears swayed. “So it would appear. But I can hardly credit you with such… generosity.”

I shot to my feet, chin angled. “If I’m so awful, why did you stick up for me?”

Her eyes lit with conviction. “Because, if there’s even a chance that you’re with us, I couldn’t ignore it. Voltaire’s Army grows every day. The Kongo is cracking at the seams. If we don’t stick together, there won’t be enough good Record Keepers left alive to save Hasting.”

I sat back down. I could no longer claim ignorance. I knew about Voltaire’s Rebel Army. From all accounts they would, indeed, murder us in our beds. If it weren’t for the greater issues at play—the divide in Kongo leadership, the black book, even now waiting to be filled—it would make sense to join with Covington and the other students. As it was, securing my place in the Assembly was more important. Once there, I could focus on helping others.