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If even Alarik laughed at this guy and leaned back as if it wouldn't damage his university's reputation at all, why was I getting upset? I had enough other problems.

Frustrated, I pulled the book on Provincial Legislation from the bookshelf in front of me and continued on with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

The Russian Alpha would pressure Father to take action against the Quatura soon. And he wouldn't feel comfortable with this hacker either.

No, Emely. Those are Alarik's problems. Not yours. You can't always bail him out of trouble.

Sighing, I moved on to the next aisle to find more books that could be useful for my legal research.

I had retreated to the antique-style library of the law school building, along with all the other competitive law students who weren't going to sit around doing nothing.

It was a law student thing. Everyone against everyone in a cutthroat environment, and any ally could turn into your enemy before the next debate or simulation, which was why I didn't even try to make friends here.

Three young men, dressed in black pants, white shirts, and navy-blue sweater vests or knitted sweaters, walked through the aisle I entered, carrying several law books in their arms.

It had been a long time since there had been so much activity here. Thanks to The Eye.

I ignored the hostile glances of the three, because I knew that two of them saw me as their competition and the latter was the guy who had tried to get my number on the first day.

Derek Milton. He had taken my rejection as a declaration of war, and since then he had enjoyed insulting me in the nastiest way during my first court simulation.

Fortunately, the aisle was empty as soon as the three of them disappeared, even though I could feel their uncomfortably intense stares on my butt.

Good for me that I wasn't wearing that black skirt like most of the girls here anymore, but the black pants instead, ever since I had decided a few days ago to take two pairs of them from my brother.

Taking a deep breath, I turned toward the shelves with the book under my arm.

I was alone among countless legal texts, sorted into cream-colored marble shelves with an integrated gold shimmer. Green banker’s lamps were attached to the marble columns connecting the shelves, bathing the hallway in a pleasant warm light. Daylight filtered weakly through the glass ceiling with its inlaid patterns and the golden scales in the center, because snow partially covered the roof.

My gaze slid over the gold plaques that told me which section I had ended up in.

The breath caught in my throat.

I stared at the gold sign in front of me. Stared as if the letters would eventually rearrange themselves. But they remained.

Indigenous Law.

Long and hard I had thought about whether to take the advanced module next semester. There was this tingling sensation in my fingers that told me I shouldn't hesitate, because if I didn't do it, who else would?

I swallowed automatically as I reminded myself that there was no reason for it.

The Esadowas had left Blairville because of her. And Father hadn't said another word about the tribe because of her.

The Awanuk tribe, a coastal tribe of the island whose descendants were said to have been of Water origin – whatever that meant – but not of Senseque descent, and which, according to ancient Esadowa historical records, is said to have existed until around 1800 before suddenly disappearing – likely wiped out by the other species – also no longer needed anyone to fight for its rights.

The only indigenous men in the pack were the Kaheels, but they had severed their ties to their roots and turned their backs on the tribe.

Cody was the only one who occasionally talked to me about our roots. But whenever he was about to touch on a sore spot, I changed the subject.

I should move on and find the rest of the books for my simulation prep, because if I wasn't accepted for the internship at the law firm in a week, I had ten potential simulations ahead of me, and no one knew who the substitute professor would throw into the ring and when.

And, oh Lord, I would never show up there unprepared.

Nevertheless, I remained standing in front of the shelf.

The tingling in my fingertip grew stronger and stronger. My feet moved forward cautiously on their own, and I fixed my gaze on the book that finally made my curiosity burst.

Esadowa Legal Cases of 1982, Blairville.