His pen stills. "You don't know your own parents' names?"
"My aunt never told me. She said it was safer that way."
"How convenient that your aunt is also dead." His tone makes it sound like an accusation.
Owen leans forward. "Mr. Valemont, Miss Bardot answered your question."
Chase doesn't look away from me. "Your first shift occurred at eighteen years old. That's unusually late."
"I didn't know I could shift. My aunt never told me I was a shifter at all."
"And you shifted alone. In the forest. With no support from a pack."
"Yes."
"That's dangerous. First shifts without guidance can be fatal."
"I survived."
"You did." He taps his pen against the notebook. "Tell me, Miss Bardot, have you shifted since?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it was painful and terrifying and I have no idea how to control it."
"The Council could help with that. We have resources for late shifters."
"I'll manage on my own."
Chase leans forward slightly. "The Council takes specific interest in late manifestations. Especially those without documented bloodlines. We'd like to run some tests. Bloodwork, genetic analysis, family tree reconstruction."
"I'm not interested."
"It wasn't a request, Miss Bardot."
"Then I'm refusing anyway."
Owen interrupts before Chase can respond. "Miss Bardot is a student here under Academy protection. Any medical testing or genetic analysis requires consent from a parent or legal guardian."
"She has no guardian."
"Then she requires Academy legal representation before any such procedures can be conducted." Owen's voice is firm. "I'll need to consult with our counsel before approving any Council testing of an enrolled student."
Chase closes his notebook with a sharp snap. "The Council will be in touch with the Academy administration regarding proper procedures."
He stands and I resist the urge to stand with him. Staying seated feels like maintaining ground even though my hands are shaking.
Chase looks down at me and his smile doesn't reach his eyes. "One way or another, Miss Bardot, we'll get our answers. The Council doesn't give up easily."
He leaves and the door closes behind him with a soft click that sounds too final.
Owen sighs and runs a hand over his face. "Miss Bardot, you should consider cooperating with the Council's inquiry."
"Why? So they can run tests and decide what to do with me based on the results?"
"The Council offers protection to those with rare gifts."
