“I haven’t the slightest clue. Perhaps we had a falling-out. Or perhaps our friendship failed to thrive in a university setting. Maybe we are academic rivals—”
“He isn’t a student.”
I threw one arm up in frustration and could practically feel gazes turning my way. “Then maybe our personalities are immiscible, like oil and water,” I whispered. “Like molten silver and lead. Regardless, it is not Desmond Gregory’s place to decide where I should be. He does not speak for the Alchemary. And he certainly doesn’t speak for me.”
“He only wants to help—”
“He wants me sent home.”
My father sighed, watching a cluster of Fundamentals-year students as they settled onto the lawn nearby with textbooks and cloth-wrapped snacks. “Well, I cannot say I disagree with him in that regard.”
“Why do you hate this place?”
He chuckled. “Do I need a reason, beyond the fact that it’s stolen my daughter’s life from her?”
“You hated the Alchemary long before my amnesia,” I whispered, boldly meeting the stare of a boy in a rust-colored vest.
“I said nothing about your memory, Amber. I said it stole yourlife. Just like—”
“Don’t,” I snapped softly, pivoting back to my father. “Don’t conflate me with her. I am not my mother. And it wasn’t the Alchemary that stole her life.”
It was the fever.
And before that, it washim.
“Amber, my dear,” my father began, and there was an odd deliberation in his voice. As if he were, for the first time I could remember, hesitant to speak his mind.
What could possibly be the root of that development? The alchemy students eyeing my Toolkeeper father as if he were trespassing on their hallowed campus? Or some desire to repair the distance that had grown between us?
“If there are no signs of illness or injury,” he continued, “and if there was no accident in the course of your research…there are few explanations left for what could have caused your memory loss. Nor can we be entirely sure that amnesia was the intended result of…whatever happened.”
“Father—”
“But wecanbe certain thatsomethinghappened. And as I’m sure you would agree, as a scientist, things do not happen spontaneously. There must have been a cause. A…catalyst?”
A sick feeling churned deep in my stomach. “What are you saying?”
He twisted to take my hands in a warm, iron grip, but his gaze skipped across the other forms now populating the courtyard, staring cooly at us even as they maintained their distance. “Someone has done thistoyou, my love.”
“No—”
“Someone here. Atthis institution,” he whispered. “Someone has hurt you, and we don’t know that the threat has passed. And you can’t remember what happened. You can’t remember who means you harm.”
“A scientist would not assume a scenario and look for evidence to support it. They would assess the evidencefirst, then draw a logical conclusion.”
My father frowned. “Is my conclusion not logical?”
“It is,” I had no choice but to admit. “But it isn’t theonlylogical conclusion, so it cannot be assumed. Even if someone has done this to me—and I’m not prepared to say that is the case—we don’t know the intent was to hurt me. It’s entirely possible that the goal was to eliminate me as competition. Or to drive me from the Alchemary. Or simply to even the odds for one of my competitors, as I’m forced to spend time recovering my memory rather than preparing for the trials and maintaining my class rank.”
“But—”
“You’re biased, and you’re letting that bias cloud your perceptions. You’re letting it lead you to conclusions that would give you what you want from this scenario.” My return to Innswood. “And there are plenty of people here who want the same thing. Any one of them could have been responsible.”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice even further. “Why would you want to stay here, if that’s a possibility?”
“Father!” I blinked at him, stunned by how hard he was working to resist comprehension. “If someone resorted to sabotage in order to neutralize me as a competitor, I must befiercecompetition. I must be truly gifted as an alchemist. And that makes me even more determined to stay here and face my enemies. To accomplish what I came here to achieve!”
I ignored all the students pretending not to stare at me, clearly trying to hear our argument over the flow of water from the fountain. I had eyes only for my father as I searched his gaze for some sign that what I wanted from life actually mattered.
