I lifted a hand, knocked, and when Foley called my name, walked inside. She stood at the window, still in her suit, a porcelain teacup cradled in her hands. She glanced back at me, one eyebrow arched. “Ms. Green?”

“She’s fine. She’s back in her room.”

Foley closed her eyes and let out a breath of obvious relief. “Thank God for small favors.” After a moment, she opened her eyes, then moved to her desk and placed the teacup on the desktop. “I assume you’re now interested in discussing your parents?”

I rubbed my arms and nodded.

“I see,” she said, then pulled out her chair and lowered herself into it. She motioned toward the chairs in front of her desk. I shook my head and stayed where I was. It wasn’t stubbornness; my knees were shaking, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it over there without tripping.

“As you know,” she said, “your parents are very intelligent people. They are currently working to resolve a somewhat, shall we say, awkward problem. That work has taken them to Europe. I have a personal interest in that work, which is why we’re acquainted.”

When she suddenly stopped talking, I stared at her for a few seconds, waiting for elaboration. But I got nothing more. “That’s all? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“That’s more than your parents told you,” she pointed out. “Are you asking me to trump a decision made by your parents? Or, more important, have you decided that your need to know trumps their decision not to tell you?”

That made me snap my lips closed again. “I don’t know.”

This time, I really did take a seat, slinking down into a chair and staring at the desktop. I finally raised my eyes to Foley’s. “They’re okay, right? Because they’re really hard to get in touch with, and their phone keeps cutting out.”

“Your parents are safe and sound,” she said, her voice softer now. “For now. You might consider, Ms. Parker, the possibility that they are safe, in part, because of the current status quo. Because you are safe and sound in this institution, and suspicions are not being raised. Because uncomfortable questions aren’t being asked. Because,” she added after a moment, lifting her eyes to mine, “the members of a certain dark elite are not aware of where they are, what they’re doing, or where you’ve been placed in their absence.”

My heart filled my throat. “They know about the dark elite? About the magic?”

Foley shook her head. “Unfortunately, that is a question I can’t directly answer.”

My head was spinning and my patience had finally worn thin. “Whatever,” I threw out, then stood up and pushed back my chair. “I’ll just ask them myself.”

My hand was on the office doorknob before she spoke again.

“Is it worth the risk?”

I wet my lips.

“Your trust has been shaken, Lily. I realize that.” I glanced back at her. “But if you search your soul, your memories, and you decide that your parents love you, perhaps you’ll be willing to give them the benefit of the doubt on this one. You might realize that if they didn’t give you all the details of their work, of their lives together, they had a very good reason for it. That the consequences of your knowing might not be worth the risks you’d be creating. The risk to you. The risk to your parents.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “And when do I get the benefit of the doubt?”

She smiled, slowly. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

When I was back in the suite, I checked in on Scout. She was snoring peacefully in Lesley’s room, and Lesley was curled up on a sleeping bag at the foot of the bed. I quietly closed the door and slipped into my room, then closed and locked it behind me. I grabbed my cell phone from the top of my bookshelf, sat down on my bed, and dialed.

It took two tries for my phone to actually make a connection to my parents. The third time, my mom answered.

“Lily?” There was a pause, maybe while my mom scanned a clock. “Are you okay?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, tears suddenly welling in my eyes. I wanted to yell at her, scream at her . . . and tell her that I loved her. I wanted to rail against her and my dad for not telling me the truth, whatever it was, for holding back so much from me. I wanted to tell her about my classes, about Scout, about the brat pack, about Jason, about firespell. About the fact that I had magic, power that flowed from my hands.

But maybe Foley was right. Maybe it was dangerous. Maybe their safety—our safety—was somehow dependent on my pretending to be an average high school kid.

Maybe there were more important considerations than Lily Parker getting a chance to throw a tantrum.

“I’m fine,” I finally said. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Smith kept his promise to keep in touch, but it was still two days before Scout got paged again. We walked together into the tunnels, headed for the enclave, the mood very different than the last time we’d taken that walk. Nevertheless, Enclave Three was still quiet when we entered.

Everyone was there. Michael, Jason, Paul, and the twins chatted together. Katie and Smith stood at the edge of the room, unhappy expressions on their faces.

“What’s going on?” Scout asked when we reached the knot of JV Adepts.

Jamie and Jill shrugged simultaneously. “No clue.”

Smith, a supersnug long-sleeved plaid shirt and skinny jeans all but pasted to his thin frame, opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the door creaked open. Our gazes snapped to the doorway.