He holds my face in both hands and kisses me back. I press into the distance between us until it is gone, crushing the secrets we have kept and the suspicions we have harbored-for good, I hope.

I decide to do what I always do when I'm not sure what's going on: I act like everyone else.

How can you fail a test you aren't allowed to prepare for?

I want to be brave, and selfless, and smart, and kind, and honest.

I feel a thread tugging me again, but this time I know that it isn’t some sinister force dragging me toward death. This time I know it’s my mother's hand, drawing me into her arms. And I go gladly into her embrace.

Please. They're like the Cult of Four.

My skepticism is strong, but my curiosity is stronger.