Chapter 6: Boarding

The lobby had gone dead quiet.

Two residents by the elevator were pretending to read their phones.

I walked up to the desk and stood right in front of him.

"None of them," I said. "I pay my own rent. I always have. Ask your anatomy grade."

A resident by the elevator choked.

Cash's smile stayed on, but his eyes went flat.

"Careful, Tenley."

"Or what? Your dad changes my lock again?"

He bent and picked up the crate of bottles.

They clinked against each other, brown glass, a dozen of them.

The bitter green note came off the crate.

I stopped breathing through my nose.

"See you at the Cup," he said. "Bring your brothers. Bring all seven. I want them to watch."

He walked out with his father's crate on his shoulder, whistling.

I went straight back to the stairwell and wrote it down.

Cash. Crate of the tonic bottles. Same bitter note. Infirmary desk, 9:40.

Then I stood there with my pen and didn't know what it meant yet.

The Commander's Cup was on Saturday night.

Academy against the Guard officers. Every year, one game, the whole Academy in the stands.

The rink was so loud it shook my teeth.

I stood behind the Academy bench in a red medic's vest with my bag at my feet.

The Commander sat in the front row in his dress coat, with Mom beside him in a Varro scarf somebody had knitted thirty years ago.

The brothers filled the row behind them.

The twins were taking bets on the stairs with a clipboard.

The quiet one was sketching the faceoff.

Titus sat at the end with his arms crossed, glaring at the ice.

Hadrian sat beside his father and didn't look at me once.

I knew because I didn't look away from him once, either.

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