I open the door to Kang's cozy office and Sehun is already there, sitting in one of the armchairs in front of her desk. The fireplace fills the room with the familiar scent of burning wood and there is abundance of candles in scones on the walls and in silver candleholders on her desk.

Kang gestures for me to sit down and I do, remembering the first day I met her. It was before I knew I was Strategia and way before I had any idea about the deal appa had made-promising Kang I would expose Yoo for the killer he was in exchange for my admittance to the Academy.

The guards close the door but remain inside.

"As requested, you two will be flown to the airport you departed from, Suzy," Kang says, and leans back in her chair. Her relaxed posture doesn't soften her. "You'll be responsible for yourselves from there."

"Thank you," I say, still a little awed that she's letting us go.

Kang looks from me to Sehun. "Before you travel, you'll receive your clothes and personal effects." She hands us each a thick envelope. "And these."

I peek inside to find an enormous stack of won bills. "Holy sh-"

Kang gives me a look and I swallow the word, fooling no one. Sehun's eyes betray his amusement. Where in the heck did all this money come from? I'm assuming appa, but this must be half his savings.

"Do you have any logistical questions for me?" Kang asks, and I can tell by the way she emphasizes logistical that she's discouraging the type of conversation we had two nights ago, when we openly discussed her friendship with appa. And now I'm regretting not asking her more questions about her time in the Academy with my parents-what they were like when they were my age before they ran away from their Strategia Families in northern Korea.

"How do we get in touch with you if we need to?" I ask, suddenly uncertain that I want to walk away from Absconditi (Hidden) Academy for good.

She nods and the faintest hint of a smile appears in the corners of her eyes. "The usual way-through your Family contacts."

I open my mouth to say that I have no idea who those contacts would be, but since the guards are in the room, I decide against it.

Kang looks at Sehun, but he makes no effort to ask her anything. He exudes a nonchalant attitude, as though we were doing nothing more than visiting our Families for the holiday.

"Now if that's all," Kang continues, "these guards will take you to change into your travel clothes and you'll be off."

Sehun and I stand up.

"Safe journey and I'll see you both when you return," Kang says, and even though her tone is as cold and distant as always, I get the sense that in her own way she's wishing us good luck.

"Thank," I say, and smile, regretting that I didn't thank her for the various ways she's protected me when I had the chance to speak freely. Our conversion two nights ago was in the wake of being attacked by Yoo, and  my exhaustion, compounded with the realization that appa left not one scrap of information about how to find him, made me overwhelmed and cloudy.

I take one last look at Kang, aware that even if we survive his crazy mission, I cannot imagine a scenario where I would leave appa alone to come back here. And I almost can't believe I'm thinking this, but some part of me will miss her severe attitude and her brilliant strategy games. I may never understand everything she tried to teach me, but I know I'm better for it.

Sehun and I exit the room, and as the door closes behind me, it feels like the end of another chapter in my life. I didn't realize when I left my house in Jeongsan to come here that nothing would ever be the same, but as I prepare to leave the Academy, I know that once again my world is about to shift.

"They're going to sedate us again, aren't they?" I ask Sehun as we make our way down the stairwell.

"Oh, definitely," he says, and flashes me a smile that takes the edge off.

The guards lead us to the ground floor and through a dimly lit hallway. The guard stops in front of a door adjacent to the teachers' lounge and unlocks it.

"See you soon," Sehun says before disappearing into the room.

I followed the second guard to the adjoining door and he, too, unlocks it without explanation. I slip through and it clicks shut behind me. The room is small and cozy, what you might expect if someone transformed a hanok into a bed-and-breakfast. It has a colorful curtain on the wall, a large four-poster canopied bed, and an elegant desk. The fire in the fireplace heats up the room in a pleasant way.

My duffel bag sits by the end of the bed, and the blue plaid pattern and worn straps seem out of place next to the antique furniture. I run my fingers over the familiar textured fabric, and as I undo the zipper, I realize it still smells like my house.

Inside are bits of home that make my heart ache-my pine tree pillowcase from my bed, an old T-shirt of appa's that I stole for pajamas a few years back, and a pair of vegan leather fingerless gloves that Jisoo and I bought last year, convinced we would start a fashion trend. Turns out they weren't warm enough for winter and were too hot for summer, making them useful for only about two weeks in the fall when the air was just turning crisp-which caused us to wear them every day so we could get our money's worth and also caused our friends to make endless remarks about our biker gang. Jisoo didn't care, insisting that Jeongsan just wasn't big enough for any original ideas.

My chest lifts at the memory and a zing of anticipation runs through me. I slip out of my cloak, white linen Academy shirt, and black leggings, discarding them on the floor. I trade my uniform for my favorite jeans and a light white sweater. Home. I'm headed home. I sit down on the end of the bed and fish my white sneakers out of the suitcase.

As I pull them on there is a light knock at the door.

"Come in!" I call, and the guard opens the door, with a glass of cloudy liquid in his hand, which I can only assume is my sedative. And once again I'm painfully aware of my two lives-my gentle one in Jeongsan and my deadly one as a Strategia.

I lightly stomped on my shoes and zip up my bag. I would ask him what happens next, but he wouldn't answer me, so there's no point. He hands me the glass and I scooch back on the bed, not sure how fast this stuff works and not wanting to concuss myself by hitting the floor. I smell the cup, but there's no scent. I look questioningly at the guard, but he just stares at me with the typical detach expression.

I don't know why, maybe I'm just buzzing with excited anticipation that I'm going back to Jeongsan, but I sing, "Put the lime in the coconut and shake it all up." Then I chug back the slightly briny liquid and hand him the glass. And even though his expression remains cold, I swear I see a glimmer of amusement dance across his eyes.

"Don't worry," I say. "I won't tell anyone that you think I'm funny." For a moment nothing happens, then gradually the world gets fuzzy, as if I were looking at it through a rainy window. "I think I'm funny, toooooo." And as I speak, I fall back onto the cushioned bed. "Wheeee!"

➶ ⱠɆ₮'₴ ⱧɄ₦₮ ⱧɆⱤ ➴

I lift my head off a crisp white pillowcase with a gasp, the world suddenly blinking back into existence. My eyes flit about rapidly, my heart racing, trying to make sense of the disorienting room. I'm in a king-sized bed. There's an armchair near a large curtained window. And there's a desk, above which hangs a large flat-screen TV. I rub my forehead and sit up, frowning at the modern objects. Then I remembered the sedative, remember that I left the Academy.

I swing my legs out of the bed to find a plush carpet with a pair of white slippers on the floor. I'm in a hotel? I almost want to laugh, like when you wake from a strange dream and you're so relieved that you actually feel giddy. But this room, which I would once have found awesome and immediately taken pictures of to send to Jisoo, now strikes me as foreign after my time at the Academy.

I stand up and stretch my sore body. Everything smells sharp and pungent, like floral laundry detergent and lemon-scented cleaning products, none of which existed in that medieval hanok. I'm fairly certain a bar of soap was a fix-all there.

I open the heavy curtains, letting in what appears to be the late-morning sun. I scan the room with its fluffy white linens and spot a row of light switches on the wall. For an instant I'm stunned; it didn't even occur to me that I could flip on the lights instead of opening the curtains. It's baffling that after only a few weeks I would feel this out of place in a world I've existed in my whole life. I've heard of reverse culture shock, but like food poisoning, you don't think it's going to happen to you until you're running full-speed for the bathroom.

I grab the remote on my bedside table, examining it for a moment, and switch on the TV. A local news station appears on the screen and I wince. The sound is jarring and the bright colors make me squint. I turn it off again, feeling relieved when the image disappears. But I love TV, don't I?

"Sehun?" My voice cracks with roughness.

"Out here," he says, and I make my way into the attached living room with tall bay windows and oversized couches. I'm instantly stuck by how many electronics there are-another TV, a coffeemaker, speakers for music, and my phone. A zing of excitement runs through me at the sight of it.

A split second later I'm moving toward the coffee table, but as I get closer, I realize it's not my phone at all, just my empty phone case. I picked up my floral cover, which is cracked in the corner from when I dropped it on my kitchen floor a couple of months ago, and turn it over, frowning at the hole where my phone should be. I run my fingertips over the sparkling star charm that's hanging from it; Jisoo has a matching moon.

I look up at Sehun, confused.

But he seems to have expected this. "Cell phones aren't allowed at the Academy," he says. "If it was on your person when your dad dropped you off, they would have destroyed it."

"Destroyed it?" I say, looking up at him in disbelief. "Couldn't they just shut it off or take out the SIM card?"

Sehun's hair is wet and neatly combed and he's wearing a button-down with few accessories and a pair of expensive-looking jeans. I stop dead in my tracks. I've never seen him anything besides our school uniform and right now he looks like he just stepped out of a magazine.

"With the right technology, your cell phone can be tracked, without or without a SIM card," he says. "It's easier to locate if it's on, but it's not impossible to locate if it's off. It's not worth taking the risk."

My fingers linger over the familiar case. I drooled over that phone for most of the year and bought it for myself for my birthday after painstakingly saving up my babysitting money. It's only four months old.

I frown. "I know it's silly that in the midst of everything that's happened I care about cell phone," I say, and sigh. "I just . . . do." What I don't tell him is that it feels like it was the last thing linking to normal teen hood, and I really didn't want to give it up. Missed texts from Jisoo, pictures from the last two months that I never uploaded to my computer, and notes on the knife and sword tricks I was learning. My old life is being stripped from me piece by piece.

He nods, but instead of silently judging my frivolity, he smiles. "You really are beautiful," he says, and chuckles to himself. "I never thought I would say that to a girl with a very flowery phone case. But it couldn't be more true."

I laugh, too, taking the edge off my phone massacre. My hair is messy and strands of it hang around my face. My jeans are worn and flared at the bottom, my socks are mismatched, and I'm in the same white sweater as I when I arrived at Absconditi (Hidden) Academy.

"You're clearly still feeling the effects of that sedative and your brains are scrambled," I say. "Speaking of sedatives, how did we get to this hotel?"

Sehun shrugs like he doesn't think it deserves much thought. "The Academy transportation system is as mysterious as its location. It helps keep the school hidden. Every time Sejeong and I have returned to Gimje, we've been dropped off and wake up in a different location."

I look around the living room, like there might be an answer among the couch cushions, but the room is perfectly average for an upscale hotel and lacks any defining features. I'm reminded of the time Sehun told me it was futile to try to figure out where the Academy was located, but even so, I couldn't stop analyzing every inch of the grounds.

"So this is just a hotel, then, not something connected with Strategia?" I say, disappointed by the suite's lack of distinguishing characteristics.

"Just an ordinary hotel room," Sehun repeats.

When I adjust my eyes back to him, he's still smiling.

"What?" I ask, wondering if I have hair in my mouth or drool on my face. It definitely wouldn't be the first time.

But instead of answering, he walks right up to me. His look gains intensity and my stomach does a quick flip. He touches a loose lock of my wavy hair and places my arms around his neck. He pulls me close.

"If you could see yourself the way I see you, you would know that you're prefect," he says with fresh minty breath, and it suddenly occurs to me that I haven't engaged in any of my morning grooming regime.

He leans in closer, and just as he nears my mouth I turn, give him a fast kiss on the cheek, and step away. "No way I'm kissing you while you're all freshly showered and" -I gesture at him- "dressed like that."

He laughs. "You won't kiss me because of my clothes? Is there an outfit you would prefer? Because I'll gladly change."

"You know what I mean," I say, and I can't help but smile, too. "You're super dressed up and I haven't even brushed my teeth. I'm jumping in the shower and then we need to catch a bus to-" I stop out of habit. At the Academy I trained myself to never reveal anything about my home life. "Jeongsan," I continue. "I'm assuming we're in Samcheok, given that Kang said she would send us to the airport I left from." I walk to the window and pull back the curtain.

Below us I recognize the city streets and the telltale architecture, and all of a sudden I'm disoriented again. The cars below seem too fast, the buildings seem too shiny, and the open sky makes me feel exposed. "Definitely Samcheok," I say, not finding the comfort I thought I would in this familiar city. "If I remember correctly, the bus we need leaves just about every hour."

I close the curtain instead of leaving it open, finding more solace in turning back to Sehun than in soaking in my home state. Just a month ago a trip to Samcheok would have been exciting; it would have meant shopping with Jisoo or going to the antiques stores hunting for old knives with appa. Have I really changed that much? While preparing to leave the Academy I wondered the same thing, only the answer seemed to be that I was stronger, smarter, and more discerning. Now I just feel like I don't know who I am.

"I'll order us some breakfast," Sehun says as he examines my expression. When I don't answer right away, he adds, "Don't give it too much thought; it takes everyone a little time to adjust after being at the Academy."

I nod, grateful that he understands. "It's like I weirdly got used to living a medieval life. Instead of feeling like I came home, I feel like I time-traveled."

"I used to feel similarly when I was young and our parents took Sejeong and me to Gyeonggi province to introduce us to Strategia contacts or to shadow them on a simple missions," he says. "The busy streets in Seoul, for instance, were in such stark contrast to our estate that it felt a bit like whiplash."

I pause; while he's relating to my current experience, he's also describing a childhood that couldn't be more different than my own. "Your estate?"

Now he pauses, potentially coming to the same conclusion I just did. "Similar to the Academy in structure, but smaller," he explains. "Every Family has one. They're hidden in plain sight, not tucked away in the forest like our school is, but a non-Strategia would never recognize them for what they are."

I stare at him like he just told me the sky is green instead of blue. "Hang on a second. You grew up in a hanok castle?"

"More of a simple hanok house, but sure," he says.

"Please tell me you had electricity," I saw with a feeling, my face poised for shock.

Sehun looks amused by my reaction, and the way his face lights up makes my knees weak. I've dated a fair number of guys, but none of them gave me that stomach-flipping, word-fumbling, drunken feeling that Sehun does.

"Yes, we had electricity," he says, his eyes bright, "but we also know how to exist without it. Our parents claimed that Strategia have been effective for thousands of years without modern gadgets, and that reliance on technology would weaken our abilities."

"I thought Sejeong said that every Family has Strategia technology experts," I say, getting a glimpse into how much I don't know about the larger Strategia world.

"We do," Sehun says, "but they are only used sparingly. The point is that if we didn't have them we would still be able to complete our missions."

Laid out on my parents' bed are two sets of black gloves, two black knitted hats, and two gray wool scarves.

"I've got a mission for you-a very important one," eomma says like she's letting in on a secret. "It's a beautiful winter day. There is fresh snow on the ground. Uncle Jin is on his way over."

I hang on her every word.

"Appa and I were thinking" -she pauses for dramatic effect- "that we should all go sledding."

I bounce on my toes. "Sledding!" I squeal, clasping my hands together and looking up at her. Appa smiles at us from a cozy chair by the window where he's reading the paper.

Eomma lifts me up onto the bed. "But we have a problem, you see," she explains. "Appa and I have mixed up our gloves, scarves, and hats, and before we can leave the house, we need your help figuring out which is which."

I look at the black gloves, eager to help eomma. I immediately pick up a set of gloves closest to me. "These are yours," I say. "They're smaller."

Eomma smiles encouragingly. "And the hats?" she asks.

"Yours has the pompom," I say, thrilled to have the answers she needs.

"Right," she says, and sits down on the bed next to me to give me a squeeze. "Only one more to go."

I stare at the gray wool scarves, hoping that something will stand out to me, but as far as I can tell, they are identical. I pick them up, turning them over in my hands.

"Do they feel the same?" eomma asks.

I nod.

"Smell the same?" she asks.

I lift each one to my nose, and while they smell familiar, I'm not sure that they smell different from each other. I stare at the scarves in concentration, wondering how I can unlock this mystery so we can go sledding. She doesn't say anything more and I don't ask for help; I know by now that she expects me to do my best.

Then I see it, the answer to my problem. "This one is yours!" I say with enthusiasm, and hold up the scarf in my left hand.

Eomma beams. "I told you she would recognize the frayed edge," she says to appa, victorious.

I shake my head. I hadn't realized hers was frayed at the bottom, but as I focus, I spot the torn bit. "No, eomma, your hair is on it," I say, feeling proud.

She takes a closer look at the scarf and plucks off a long piece of wavy brown hair. She looks at me with a big smile. "My goodness, you are smart," she says, and tackles me onto the bed. "How did I ever wind up with such a smart girl?" She covers me with kisses as I laugh.

"Put down your paper, Joonie!" eomma explains. "We have a date with the snow!"

What kind of missions did you go on with your parents?" I ask, fairly certain that missions in my house were different than his.

"Mostly espionage," Sehun says. "They taught us how to negotiate for information and how to move around undetected."

I nod, wondering if my parents would have done the same if eomma had lived longer. While appa did train me in his own way, I still don't understand why he didn't tell me the truth about being Strategia.

"Order all the things," I say, motioning to the menu in his hand. "I'm starved."

He smiles and I once again get pulled into his inviting look. "All the things it is."

I smile back. "And stop looking at me like that, all attractive and what not. It's not fair."

Sehun laughs. "Got it. Food. Stop being attractive. And start dressing differently."

"Right," I say. "And if that doesn't work we'll just figure out a way to cover your face with something. That way I'll be able to think clearly without wanting to kiss you. Now work on your list. I'm going to get ready so we can get out of here." I walk back into the bedroom and hear Sehun chuckling to himself.

I stand in the middle of the modern room for a few seconds, staring at my plaid duffel bag, not yet acclimated to this unfamiliar world. The last time I was here, I was at peace. My world was small. My family was small. And I had everything I needed. None of those things are true now.

I touch the back of my head, fish out the lock of hair Sejeong gave me from my braid, and hold it to my heart like it might have answers I'm looking for, or at least help me find my footing.

And so the journey begins . . . wonder what or who they will encounter.