Page 76 of Roguefinder

“I…” He twisted a little, looking at the window. When he turned back, he ran his free hand through his hair. “I don’t know. A little before sunrise?”

I folded my arms.

He sighed. “Since five.”

Jesus. I looked at the clock on the microwave. “It’s ten-thirty.”

He tapped the end of his pen against his notebook. “This is important.”

“So is eating, and you haven’t done that today.” I nodded toward the sea of Post-its. “You’re a corkboard and some red string away from an episode of Ancient Aliens.”

His frown intensified, and his brown eyes went from serious to severe.

I waved a hand. “It’s this show on⁠—”

“I have something to tell you.”

My stomach knotted. I knew that phrase. People said that when they wanted to soften a punch. Except it didn’t work. The punch landed even harder because you were braced for it.

Teachers said it. My parents had said it. Counselors had said it to my parents while I tried to disappear into the cushions of a cheap office sofa.

I have something to tell you. Caleb was involved in another fight.

Caleb’s attitude doesn’t meet our standards.

Caleb struggles to get along with his peers.

We believe this summer program will address Caleb’s behavioral issues.

“What is it?” I asked.

Jesse set down his pen. “I was going to tell you last night, but⁠—”

“Tell me now,” I snapped.

For a second, he didn’t move. Just stared, and the knots in my gut wrenched tighter. What the fuck was wrong? A dozen possibilities flashed through my mind.

I was too young for him.

The Council changed its mind and wanted me dead.

Our relationship was a mistake.

He wanted me to leave.

“I don’t feel great about the Council,” he said.

It took a second for the words to settle in my brain. “What does that mean?”

He shoved a notebook away like it was a meal he’d finished. “I don’t have anything concrete, but I can’t accept an entire country losing its werewolf population. I texted Stefanos Tuesday night and by Wednesday he’d already consulted the Council and decided we shouldn’t worry about it.”

I ran the timeline in my head. Jesse had noticed the missing wolves after our run in the forest. He’d texted Stefanos before we went to bed. Then Stefanos had called yesterday at Consolata’s. It felt like a million years ago.

“You had these doubts at lunch?” I asked.

“Yes,” Jesse rasped.

And he’d said nothing. Not when we visited the fresco where I saw the Romans. Not when we showered and got ready for the opera. Not on the walk to the opera house or during Francesco’s performance. He’d had plenty of time to speak up. Instead, he’d used it to look me up and down while I shaved.