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I counted off in my head, Victor, North and Silas, versus Kota and Nathan. Luke, I thought, was on my side. Gabriel I wasn’t sure about. “What about Dr. Green?”

“He’s on my side,” Mr. Blackbourne said quickly.

“And what is your side?” I asked.

Mr. Blackbourne’s lips shifted, and that millimeter smile appeared. It threatened to distract me from his next words. “Believe it or not, I’m on your side. I wouldn’t force you into the Academy if you didn’t want it.” He leaned in a little then, the steel in his eyes softening to something more silver. “And if you told me you prefer to stay out of it, I’d respect that, too. You’ll always have the choice. No matter what, we’ll be here for you.”

My heart warmed. I did want in the Academy, but I liked knowing I didn’t have to join to stay with them. That lead me to another thought and I nervously glanced around at the gentlemen drinking coffee at the counter, wishing we’d picked to go somewhere more private. “If...if for some reason I can’t convince them, would it be better if I told the Academy I wasn’t interested in joining.”

“Maybe,” he said quietly. “But I don’t want you to lie to them, and I don’t want to hold you back, either.”

I wasn’t sure what he’d be holding me back from. I’d already participated in their jobs, even if I didn’t join them on every single one of them. Most of the time I didn’t know where they’d gone or what they were doing. Being outside of the Academy felt more like I was being held back. I’d rather put off signing up for the Academy until we were all ready rather than signing up too soon if Kota wasn’t on board yet.

“There’s another part we’ll have to straighten out, too,” he said.

I was about to ask what it was when our coffees were delivered. The waiter politely informed us our breakfasts would be out very shortly. He dropped off a creamer and sugar for Mr. Blackbourne, nodded to us and then turned to address other customers just coming in.

My eyes flitted to the family that had entered, waiting to be seated. Mr. Blackbourne started with his coffee and it distracted me. I watched as he poured in cream, and then one sugar and stirred with the spoon. He picked up the cup, sipped it quickly and then put it down.

I picked up my own coffee, thinking to drink it before he asked me to. It wasn’t like the bottled coffee I was used to. It had more coffee in it and wasn’t as sweet, but it tasted fine. There was a bitterness to it underneath. I preferred the Frappuccinos.

Mr. Blackbourne seemed to ease then. “I have some news. Your stepmother has come out of her critical condition and is asking for Marie.”

I waited, anticipating him saying she’d been asking for me, too. After a second, I realized that wasn’t the case. Of course she wouldn't ask for me. She didn’t like me. Still, the news was something I’d been dreading. “Does this mean she’ll be out of the hospital soon?”

“Not yet,” he said. “It seems her mental state is somewhat unstable still. Dealing with an illness this extreme can be hard on anyone.”

They couldn’t keep her in the hospital forever. I didn’t know much about insurance, only what my father used to complain about over the years when my mother so often went into the hospital. The longer she stayed, the higher the bill got. She’d been away for a while, and would be there longer still. The costs must be great and adding up every moment. I tried to forget about it for now. “But she’s asking for Marie.”

“We’d like to see if you could talk to her, though,” he said quietly.

I gazed down at the mocha, looking at the ice through the glass. This felt like he was asking me to fulfill some family obligation. I ought to see her because she was the stepmother I’d grown up with and that should mean something. I should have been asking to see her before now, and possibly insisting Marie and I go. It wasn’t my stepmother’s fault she was the way she was. She’d done horrible things to me but she was ill.

I wanted to say this, but I couldn’t. In some way, after she’d gone, and especially since moving out of the house, I hadn’t been sure if I’d see her again. In small ways, the boys told me I wouldn’t. Some of them may have been unsure about wanting me to join the Academy, but all of them wanted me to stay, in one form or another, with them.

Our breakfast came out then. The waiter placed my yogurt and fruit on the table, followed by Mr. Blackbourne’s omelet with spinach, tomato and mushrooms. Now that I’d smelled egg, though, I was hungry for it. Still, my stomach probably couldn’t take much more than a bite or two.

The waiter nodded politely to us and then moved on.

I focused on the yogurt, grapes, strawberries and granola in front of me. I mimicked Mr. Blackbourne, unfolding the napkin, placing it in my lap.

Mr. Blackbourne took a couple of bites and touched his napkin to his lips before he continued speaking. “The reason I’m asking you to talk to her is actually for our own purposes. Otherwise I wouldn’t ask you to do it. There’s no need to see her again after this unless you wish to.”

I lifted my head and his gaze held mine. “Do you need something?” I asked.

“We’ve been having some trouble,” he said. “It’s what I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

My eyebrows shifted and I put my spoon down, waiting.

Suddenly his eyes dropped to his food. He placed his silverware down quietly.

This was it. This was the heavy weight he’d carried since we’d sat down.

“I hope you’ll forgive me for interfering,” he said. He picked up his head and the silver in his eyes sparked. “We’ve been investigating your father and your mother...your real mother.”

The restaurant quieted then, or it was my own silence inside me, as my heart paused and I couldn’t breathe. I stared at him, disbelieving. My real mother was someone I tried to think about, but because of the activity around us, couldn’t. Sometimes at night though, I wondered about who I was, and who she was, and how all this had happened. I wondered how my life would have been different if I’d grown up with her.

The questions were too much to consider, and I often tucked them away, thinking instead of the boys, of school, of the current situations and the future of the Academy, instead of a past I had no clue about, and of things I couldn’t change.

“Did you find her?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No,” he said. “That’s the problem. We’re unsure where to start. We traced back through your hometown for deaths around the time you were born, but no one stands out as being a possibility. Either she’s in a surrounding town, which might take a lot of time to track down, or we’re missing a clue. It’d be helpful if we could gather a hint from your stepmother.”

I obviously didn’t come from nowhere, but the way he said it made it feel like I had. “My father didn’t mention her name.”

“We’ve tried different ways to approach him, but we don’t want him getting curious about you and coming back too soon. We didn’t want to alarm him by asking about her and have him make rash decisions.”

Too soon? If he came back, I suspected he’d want me to move back in with my sister. They didn’t want that. I didn’t want it.

“The only person we’re aware of that might know is your stepmother,” he continued. “You’ve got every right to know, and she might be willing to tell you. She’s in a more stable condition now. Even if she didn’t want to tell you for your own sake, she might tell you to spite him. We’ll have to take advantage of that. We just need a name.”

Why? I asked the question repeatedly to myself. How much would finding out change? I glanced again at my yogurt, suddenly not hungry, but afraid at the same time to not eat and waste Mr. Blackbourne’s money. I scooped out a bite and ate it, giving myself time to consider how to answer.

Part of me didn’t want to know. As much as I’d wondered about it, I was terrified to find out. It was why I’d never asked. My stepmother made it sound like my father had something to do with her death, and my father led me to believe that he cared about he

r a great deal. Either way, it sounded like she was underage at the time I was born, and I couldn’t imagine being sixteen, the age I was now, and be pregnant and have to deal with it.

It was the part I didn’t want to face, a past I wasn’t sure I should know about. Not thinking of it was almost like it was a story rather than reality, and I could almost pretend it had nothing to do with me.

Was that the life I wanted to lead? Not knowing who I really was? I was afraid of the truth. Mr. Blackbourne was sitting across from me, telling me he had been trying to find it and now was asking me to participate.

I didn’t want to. It might change me. Somehow, it felt like if I found my real family, my mother’s family, maybe I’d be forced to return to them. What if they wanted me to come stay with them? Could I tell them no?

Would I want to?

I stared down, unwilling to meet his gaze. I didn’t want to tell him what I was thinking. “I don’t know,” I said quietly.

“You shouldn’t be afraid of her,” he said in a sharp tone. “She can’t hurt you again.”

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