My boots click against the stone corridor as I speed-walk toward the dining hall. Sejeong and Sehun were in their classes for a good hour longer than I was and so I spent that time pacing in my room. I've had an awful knot in my stomach ever since my encounter with Jennie this morning, and I'm crossing everything I have int he hopes that I can make it through the rest of the day without incident.

I push through the enormous arched door with iron rivets that leads to the dining hall. Navy blue velvet chairs, long tables laid with white linen tablecloths, and sparking silver await for me. There are centerpieces made from green ivy and clusters of white flowers, and from the ceiling hang cast-iron chandeliers alight with real candles. On a platform at the end of the room is a table of nineteen teachers presiding over the hall and an empty chair where Yoo used to sit. The students speak in polite and quiet voices, exactly what you wouldn't expect from a room of full of a hundred teenagers eating dinner.

I walk between the tables, avoiding the probing looks from the other students. No one has said anything to me about Yoo's death, but as I make my way across the room, everyone I pass follows me with their eyes. There were times this happened to me in the cafeteria in Jeongsan, once in sixth grade after I scaled the flagpole and strung up a pair of underwear and once in ninth grade when I put all the supplies for a dread science practical on the roof of the school. Only, back then I was met with hoots and cheers and pats on the back. But this attention is neither congratulatory or good-natured, and instead of strutting I find myself wishing I could pull up the hood of my cloak.

I'm halfway to my usual spot, where Sehun and Sejeong are already seated, when Taemin suddenly pushes his chair back. He stands up, still chatting with a group of guys, takes a wide stance, placing himself and his chair directly in my path. I slow my pace, unsure how to navigate this obvious challenge and aware that everyone in now paying attention. It's not as though I can turn back and go a different direction; it'll look like I'm scared of him. Jennie, thankfully, is nowhere to be seen.

I stop in front of Taemin. He makes no effort to move, and by the way his chest is puffed out, I'm certain he has no plan to.

My shoulders tense. "Excuse me," I say with as much civility as I can muster, but he doesn't even look in my direction. "I know you hear me, Taemin. You're not that subtle."

Now he does make eye contact with me. "Go around," he says like he couldn't care less that I'm being inconvenienced. He wears a smug smile and his voice confident. His blonde hair reflects the candlelight above.

From farther down the table Rosé leans back to get a good view. Lisa gives me a sympathetic look.

I stare at Taemin. "Or, you could literally move over a foot and push in your chair so I can get to my dinner," I say. I could try to squeeze past him, but it would be tight and if he shifted his weight and knocked me over, I would fall into the table and probably land on a strategically placed knife.

He considers my suggestion. "Nah, I pretty comfortable where I am."

So much for not starting a fight.

I exhale, scanning the room for an alternative solution, and find none. "Since we're going to be here for a minute until you decide eating is more interesting than blocking my path, what should we discuss?" I say in a relaxed voice. "The weather, sports . . . or your friends helping Yoo kill other students? Which makes me wonder, how were you involved in Taehyung's death, Taemin?"

Taemin smirks. "No bad. Not bad. But I was thinking more friendly chitchat." He looks to the side to make sure people near us are listening. "Maybe I should wish you well on your trip."

Rosé is practically falling out of her chair to listen.

My heart thuds. He knows.

Taemin scans my face. "Oh, you thought that was a secret?" He laughs. "Just another reason you're going to fail."

I'm not sure whether he means I'll fail to find my father in time or fail to retaliate against the Tigers or maybe both. And I can't help but wonder if he's right.

"It's odd," I say, outwardly dismissing his comment. "No one in this school saw me coming. No one thought I would be any good. And yet I keep beating you at every turn. Does that mean I'm that good? Or you're that bad?"

His smirk suggests he knows something I don't. "Maybe you'll last a week . . . if you're lucky."

"I'll take that bet," I say, doing my best to convince him and the onlookers that I'm not worried. "You're in the running to be the head of the Tigers, right? And technically we're cousins. So does that mean I'm also a contender for the throne? Or whatever you power-obsessed Tigers like to call it."

His chin juts out and his nostrils flare-not one but two indicators that he wants to hurt me. Taemin might not have tried to kill me with his bare hands thus far, but it's obvious he wants me dead, and now I'm wondering if I inadvertently stumbled onto the reason he and his friends went after me so aggressively. I look at the small gap between him and the table. If I make a move now, it won't end well. But I also can't stand here; he knows I'm leaving and he has every reason to want incapacitate me, even if it does earn him a punishment.

I make a flash decision and take the only other option available-I slip into his empty chair. I don't dare look back at him. Instead, I scoop some bibimbap onto his clean plate.

"How's it going?" I say casually to the guys he was chatting with, who all stare at him, unsure, which I'm fairly certain is the Strategia version of shock.

I keep a close watch on the guy directly across from me as he shifts his attention to Taemin. By the way the guy's eyes move down and the slight pressure I feel on my chair, I'm pretty sure Taemin just gripped the back of it. If he pulls the chair backward, there is no way I won't fall on my .

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I say with a mouth full of rice. "There is an entire table of teachers keeping a close watch on this room, and if I go flying onto the floor-which I will make sure I do-it will look like you started a fight."

"Do you imagine I care if they think I started a fight?" he says with an arrogant tone, and he's so close to the back of my head that the hair on my neck stands up.

"I do, actually," I say without turning around. "Because the one thing no one's been able to figure out about me is how I did what others couldn't-get into this school at seventeen. Maybe I can more influence to make your stay in the dungeon particularly unpleasant." It's gamble. I'm banking on the assumption that he's never been sent to the dungeon, considering he's practically catered to at this school. And if I'm right, he probably fears it more than most. "Now as you said, if we get in a fight, I'm out of here. But you?"

I feel his grip on the chair tighten and hear him in a deep breath.

"It was lovely meeting you all," I say to the table, and stand up on the other side of Taemin. I immediately start walking toward Sehun and Sejeong, grateful that I got past him without a physical altercation.

"It's a shame what's going to happen to your father," he says, and I stop dead in my tracks. "I would tell you, but I guess you'll know soon enough."

My heart jumps into my throat. I turn around. The look on Taemin and I share is pure anger.

Before I take a step in his direction, Lisa stands up and blocks my path. Her dark flowy hair hangs down her back and her bangs above her eyes are determined.

"He wants you to attack him," she says, and it's literally the second time I've ever heard her speak. "And if you do, you won't be leaving here anytime soon. He will win." She watches me closely, as though she's looking for a sign that I understand.

I take a breath and unclench my fists. And just like that Lisa sits back down and returns to her meal like none of it every happened.

"Thanks," I say, but she doesn't respond. Both Jimin and Rosé stare at her, clearly as surprised that spoke to me as I am.

I don't waste any time; I walk to my usual spot and sit down across from Sehun and Sejeong, my heart rate elevated. It takes a couple of long breaths before I can relax my rigid posture and lean back in my chair.

Sehun smiles at me. "I can't leave you alone for two minutes. Good thing I don't intend to."

Sejeong raises her eyebrows. "Are you flirting right now? That could have turned into a fight."

"But it didn't," he says, as unfazed as usual. "Suzy handled it beautifully. Sitting in Taemin's chair was genius."

Sejeong frowns. "I seriously don't know what to think about you two. One's more reckless than the other." She pauses. "You're going to be completely lost without me."

Sehun nudges her shoulder and smiles at her in a way that gives me a clear window into what they must have been like as kids. "Is this you looking for an invite? Am I sensing a bit of, I don't know, jealousy?"

Sejeong gives him a hard look. "Jealousy? Not even close. I'm just looking forward to the moment when I can read a book in peace without having to save one of you from your own stupidity."

Sehun laughs, but I don't have a laugh in me. "He seemed so certain that I would fail," I say, concern leaking into my voice. They both look at me.

Sehun's smile fades, but he doesn't appear worried. "Retaliation against the Tigers is no small feat. From Taemin's perspective, it's unthinkable."

There is that word again, retaliation. Truth is, I haven't even thought about retaliating. "I just want to find my dad," I say.

"Finding your father will not solve the problem," Sejeong says as she refills her water glass. "The Tigers will not stop hunting you both."

I know she's right, that I haven't properly considered the big picture. "I can't stop thinking about what Taemin said about my dad," I say, looking at them both for reassurance. "Could Taemin actually know something about what's going on with him?"

Sehun's lips subtly and momentarily tighten, which I recognize as one of the micro-expressions Sanrak said that when someone presses their lips together it's often a sign that they're holding back information or refraining from saying something.

"Like I said, communication to and from the Academy is monitored and often delayed," Sehun said. "Taemin was probably just toying with you."

Sejeong remains silent, which tells me everything I need to know. Taemin might have been toying with me, but that doesn't mean he wasn't also telling the truth.

➶ ⱠɆ₮'₴ ⱧɄ₦₮ ⱧɆⱤ ➴

The furniture is the common room of our suite, which once seemed lavish and formal, now feels familiar and cozy. I scan every detail, trying to catalogue them all in my mind-the couch where Sehun kissed me, the breakfast table near the arched window where Sejeong coached me for hours on end, and the fireplace, which I often sat in front of contemplating whatever my current mess was. I thought I hated this school, but when faced with leaving it, I realize I've felt more alive here than I ever have.

Sejeong's bedroom door opens and she joins me in the common room, looking at the clock. "Almost time," she says with a smile.

I wish I could smile back. "I hate that we're leaving you."

She brushes off my comment. "You'll see me again soon."

"I know, but . . ."

"You'll be fine, Suzy," she says with such assurance that I almost believe her. "Watch out for each other, don't let my brother to anything outrageous, and keep your eyes open. Danger always shows up when you least expect it."

Her words remind me of our lesson is poisons class today and I find myself agreeing with her warning. It reminds me how often Sejeong called me naive when I first arrived, how right she probably was, and how much I've changed since i was last in Jeongsan. "I'll keep an eye on him. I promise."

Sejeong gives me a no-nonsense glare. "Now I'm going to give you something, but I swear if you get emotional I will take it right back."

"Okay," I say in a cautious tone.

She pulls something black and shiny out of her pocket and holds it before me.

My eyes widen. "A lock of your hair?" I say, and my voice falters. We've been through some harrowing experiences together over these past few weeks and it's fair to say that we've bonded, but it's also always been clear that I've liked her more than she's liked me.

She holds up the braided lock, which is tied with a piece of thread. "In the Wolf Family we give a lock of hair to someone going on an important journey. It's a show of faith, to tell you that I'm there with you in spirit and to wish you luck-filled travels and a quick trip home." She sighs. "So I expect that you'll bring this back when you both return safely."

I nod at her, at loss for words.

"Are you crying?" she says, and points a slender finger at me. "You better not be crying."

"Not crying," I say, but my voice cracks.

"Here, turn around," she says, and I do. She tucks the lock of her hair into my braid near my scalp. "So they don't take it away from you before you leave."

I turn back to her and wrap my arms around her neck. For a long second she just stands there. Then slowly the tension drops from her shoulders and she hugs me back.

There's a knock on the door and Sejeong steps away before I get a chance to tell her how much her friendship has meant to me. How I wouldn't have survived without her. And how selfless she's been about her brother coming with me.

Sejeong opens the door and standing on the other side are two of Kang's guards with their signature leather armbands and belts. I open my mouth, but Sejeong shakes her head as thought to tell me nothing more can be said.

"Good night, Suzy," she says, and her words are heavy.

"See you soon, Sejeong," I reply.

And just like that I walk away, knowing all too well that this might be the last time I ever see her.