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I’d always wanted to be? Was this what it felt like to be accepted?

Not at all a bad feeling, if I did say so myself.

I turned and began walking, my mind automatically drifting to Grey and the pills. He’d given me enough for a month—I’d counted—but who else were they making this for? It was illegal, that much was certain, yet it was giving me a second chance at life in the Tower.

It could be dangerous. By taking these pills, I was putting myself and possibly my friends and family at risk. And Grey was running around out there, someone who knew what I was doing. If he was compromised… I wasn’t sure I could count on him not to turn on me. Or vice versa.

Grey’s story about Roark and his wife flashed across my mind, and I felt the dull burn of anger, but a greater sense of disorientation, the thought leading me to my brother’s words last night. Something’s wrong with Scipio.

My feet paused in their stride, and I brought myself to a slow stop, trying to calm the sense of foreboding settling over my bones. I was being paranoid. I was stressed about what I was doing with Grey’s pills, and Alex’s comments were just adding to an overactive imagination that tended to focus on impending doom rather than looking on the bright side.

And there was a bright side—I was a nine.

I just wished I knew what that meant for the future.

The apprenticeship annex held its usual smattering of bored young adults when I arrived. Unlike before, however, they did not part when I approached. Instead, they waved or offered a smile as I slid by. It took me a minute to find Zoe and Eric standing in a corner, Zoe gesticulating wildly as she spoke.

The pair of them looked up as I drew near, Zoe’s smile fading as she gave me an apprehensive look. I knew she was worried about my number, and wondering what had happened after she’d left. I gave her a nervous smile as I walked up.

“Hey, Liana,” Eric said cautiously, his eyes flicking over to Zoe. “I heard you were feeling more… like yourself?”

His face screwed up at the end of his statement, a mixture of awkwardness and naiveté that brought an amused smile to my lips.

“I am,” I said. “Very much so.”

Zoe stepped forward, tilting her head to try to get a look at my number, and I caught myself moving to cover it. I had to be careful not to do that now; nines wouldn’t try to hide. They had nothing to be ashamed of.

“A nine!” she exclaimed, her eyebrows rising, and Eric whistled, a low, impressed sound. Zoe’s eyes met mine, quizzical, and I could hear her unspoken question: Did Grey help you?

I hesitated and gave an imperceptible shrug. I felt bad for lying, playing dumb, but with the nebulous nature of my relationship with Grey, and the origin of the pills, it wasn’t worth the risk of telling her. She was a six, and I knew she’d never betray me, but she had been exposed to way too much already. It could be dangerous for her to learn more.

“A nine and the side effects wearing off? That’s seriously impressive.”

“Thanks,” I said with a smile, but I felt the urge to fidget under their scrutiny.

“How’d it happen?” Eric asked, and I sucked in a deep breath, the lie I’d told my parents slipping out more easily this time.

“I’m not really sure,” I replied. “It happened after I met with Zoe. I dropped down to a three, and then it was a nine.”

“No miraculous realizations?” Zoe asked. “No heroic deeds?”

“Nope. Maybe Scipio’s finally getting my sense of humor?”

Zoe frowned, but seemed willing to drop the subject for the time being, probably just as unwilling as I was to bring it up in front of Eric. I knew there’d be hell to pay later for withholding information, and I would have to tread very lightly, but for the time being I was safe from any other interrogations.

“Does that mean I won’t get any lectures about why I shouldn’t fraternize with dangerous lower numbers like Zoe again?”

“Scipio’s grace, no,” I said. “Please, fraternize with the low numbers until I’m forced to arrest you.”

Eric grinned. “It’s good to have you back properly. Those drugs did a number on you.”

“They really did,” Zoe agreed, as if she hadn’t known already, and I realized she hadn’t told Eric about our escapade yesterday. She held my gaze, her eyes sharp. “So who’s up for Phineas, week two?”

I frowned, racking my brain for a memory of who Phineas was. It took me a few seconds to remember the class right before the Medica, and our lesson in Callivax, the hand language of the Divers.

“Is he still teaching us?” I asked, confused. “I thought he was only supposed to be here for a few days.”

“He extended,” Eric patiently replied.

“Great,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “Now I’m behind in a class I’ve been attending for the past week.”

“Don’t worry—the class has really become a spectator sport. Now we all just watch the showdown between Zoe and Phineas. She has a nasty habit of correcting him.”

The look Zoe gave us was one of pure smugness. “I’ll stop when he stops giving out the wrong information.”

I shared a conspiratorial smile with Eric. “Of course you will,” I drawled sarcastically, and Eric chuckled as we began to move toward the classroom.

Phineas was already inside, a series of shiny tools and equipment strewn all over the long table at the front of the hall. He glanced at the three of us as we entered, and then looked back down at one of the pieces he was fiddling with.

“Ah, Eric, I see you are still associating with Zoe and Liana. I assume Liana’s number is still holding steady at a six?”

“Actually, no,” Eric replied, grinning at me approvingly. “Liana is now a nine.”

Phineas looked up at me, brow and scalp wrinkling

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