Hawthorne nods, that thoughtful look still on his face. “I would hate to see you get caught up in whatever delusions his parents might have instilled in him. It wouldn’t end well. And you… well, you’re special.” He shrugs. “Those are just my two cents, of course. You’re free to do what you want, but I would warn you to think carefully about who you associate with around here. Do you understand?”
I nod, my heart hammering in my chest. “I think so.”
“Good,” Hawthorne says, and nods towards the exit. “Then you’re free to go.”
It’s after curfew, and the students are all in bed. There are a few lights on in the individual dorm rooms, but the hallways are empty and dark. I lie on top of my sheets, staring at the ceiling.
Did Hawthorne threaten me today?
That’s debatable, I suppose, but the message behind his words was crystal clear: stay away from Silas. But why? He’s just another student at the Academy, right?
That business about his parents planning a coup bothers me, though. If Silas’ parents were dangerous, Hawthorne would know, right? Unless he was lying. There are too many questions, and my nervousness about the disappearance isn’t helping matters. I’m too new to this world, I think, and I don’t have enough information to think about any of this objectively. I haven’t heard from Silas since our last conversation, and that makes me nervous, too; did he break into the registrar’s office? What did he find? Was he discovered?
Maybe he is just paranoid, I think. Maybe Hawthorne was right, and Brody going missing is just the excuse he needed to lash out against the Academy.
As if on cue, there’s an insistent rapping at the door, enough to make me jump. The knocking pauses for a moment and then resumes with renewed urgency. Sitting bolt upright in bed, I go to the door and hiss, “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Silas’ voice comes from the other side, making my heart beat a little faster. “Boots, I need to talk to you right now.”
I pull open the door, once again surprised by how much he towers over me. He nearly has to duck to enter the room, and I can tell just from his posture that he’s on edge--frightened, even. But Hawthorne’s warning is still fresh in my mind, and I cross my arms warily. “What’s this about?” I ask.
“I did it,” he replies, his tone intense. “Mrs. Fairbanks had to step out. I don’t know where she went, but it doesn’t matter. I got a look at the student files.”
My eyes widen. “And? What did you find?”
“Millie, it’s…” He shakes his head, looking like he doesn’t know how to proceed. “It’s bad,” he says after a moment.
I clear my throat. “Silas, look,” I begin, “I know you wanted to find out the truth, but are you sure this is--”
“It involves you.”
My mouth drops open. Those three little words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment I don’t know what to do with the information. Me? What the hell does Brody’s disappearance have to do with me? “What are you talking about?”
Silas opens his mouth to reply and then closes it again, tunneling a hand through his hair.
“I… Boots, there’s no easy way to say this,” he says, slowly taking a seat on my bed.
I sit down next to him, eyes wide.
“They had a lot of documents back there,” Silas says, turning to me. “And there was a whole file on you.”
“A whole…” I shake my head. “But everyone has a file, don’t they?”
“Sure,” Silas replies, “but yours was enormous. I’m talking hundreds of pages.”
“But why?” I ask. “Why would they have that much information on me? I just got here!”
Silas takes a long breath. “Because they made you,” he replies. I stare at him, not understanding. “I don’t mean the Academy itself made you,” he continues, “but the humans. The ones who founded the Academy.”
“What do you mean, they made me?” I ask. “How do you know? What did my file say?” The questions are coming almost faster than I can keep up with them, but the need for the truth has overtaken any caution Hawthorne might have put in me today.
Silas swallows. “Nineteen years ago, the group in charge of policing human-shifter interactions began a project.”
“What kind of project?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“They were trying to create a hybrid shifter,” Silas replies. “It had been done before, a few times, but it had always been magic-based, and the