“Yes.”

“Do you want to get better?”

“Yes!” I don’t know.

When a pair of women pass by on the sidewalk, Jamie takes my arm and pulls me deeper into the shadows of the embassy’s yard. The women speak in rapid Adrian, the language of our mother. And for a second I swear I can almost see her standing on the other side of the fence, calling out that it’s time for us to come home.

“I know you know.” Jamie’s voice shakes. “I know you remember what happened, so don’t tell me you’re okay.”

I’m supposed to say something now. Something good or kind or clever. Something to show just how sorry I am and just how much progress I’ve made. I’m supposed to make my brother stop worrying.

But the truth is, if my brother was smart he wouldn’t be worried. He’d be terrified.

“Grace —” Jamie starts, but I can’t listen to any more — I can’t take any more. The guilt and shame have been weighing on me for three years, and the only thing I can do is pave over them with rage.

I deserve my guilt, but I shouldn’t have to live with Jamie’s betrayal, with all of their lies.

“You knew!” I can’t help but shout. “All those years, you knew the truth and you never told me!”

I expect Jamie to lash back, to fight. He’s a soldier now, isn’t he? But he’s just shaking his head.

“You’re my little sister. Protecting you is my job, so I’m not going to apologize for not telling you the truth. You can yell at me all you want, but I’m not sorry.”

“You had no right to keep that from me!”

“I had every right!” Jamie shakes his head, almost like he’s locked in a nightmare, trying to wake up. “It was better when you didn’t know, Gracie. I’d make you forget all over again if I could.”

“You lied. Everyone lied. Grandpa and Dad and … them, I understand. But not you, Jamie. Never you.”

“You didn’t see you, Gracie. Mom was dead and you were dying. Really. I’m not exaggerating. The guilt was killing you! I hated seeing you in that place. I don’t know how much longer Dad and I could have taken it — watching you scream and shake and yell about the Scarred Man. You just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take it anymore. So when they decided to stop fighting and let you think what you wanted to think, I didn’t care. I wanted to lie. I wanted to forget about everything as much as you did. About Mom. And you. And the intruder, and how —”

“The intruder?” For a moment, I’m sure that I’ve misheard him.

“The burglar. The intruder. Whatever. The man who was there. The reason why you …” My brother can’t say pulled the trigger, and despite the setting sun, some new light dawns.

Jamie doesn’t know.

Not the whole truth. Not really.

They lied to him, too.

No one ever told him the truth about the Scarred Man. He doesn’t know about the Society or the prime minister or Ms. Chancellor. He only knows that his kid sister fired the shot that killed his mother. He has no idea why.

It should anger me, infuriate me. I should charge into my grandfather’s office and call him out on all of his lies. But then I realize that Grandpa might not even know the truth. Maybe Ms. Chancellor and her Society have been manipulating him, too. Their cover-ups could go back at least three years. They could go back a thousand.

I should end it all right here and now, but for once I am on the inside. For once, Jamie is the person left behind.

I must stay silent long enough for Jamie to soften, because he smiles.

“Are you at least a little bit glad to see me?” he asks.

I shrug, play along. “The jury is still out.”

Hearing him tease me, love me, I come to realize that he doesn’t hate me. Not at all. And I guess that means I have to hate myself even more to make up for his bad judgment.

Grandpa’s meetings run late, and goodness knows we aren’t allowed to eat without him. Not since Ms. Chancellor decreed that tonight’s meal is to be a family affair. Which is a little ironic, since she’s not family. Neither is Spence. But Ms. Chancellor took me into the tunnels. She told me something about my mother. And, most of all, she saved my life. We might not have the same blood, but we are bonded now, and I won’t even try to deny it. Even if sometimes I’m pretty sure she’d like to.

By the time we gather around the big, formal dining room table it’s dark outside and my stomach is growling, but I don’t say a thing.

“And how do you like West Point, young man?”

I can hear Grandpa talking from his place at the head of the table, but he’s so far away I have to strain to listen. Ms. Chancellor tried to force me into a dress, but we compromised on shorts that don’t have rips in them and a nice sweater. I can feel her watching me as I pick at my salad. It’s like she’s the only one who can see that Jamie is a time bomb that has landed back in our lives. It’s just a matter of time until the truth slips out and we all go boom.

“Is your father a military man?” Grandpa asks.

Spence wipes his mouth before speaking. “My mother, sir. She’s in the Air Force.”

“Excellent.” Grandpa takes a sip of his water. “Just excellent. And your father, what does he do?”

The conversation goes on like this through two more courses.

What classes are their favorites? What sites should Jamie show Spence in Adria? Will they be here for the Festival of the Fortnight?