ALESSIA
January eleventh arrived with winter light and cold air and a duffel bag that represented everything Alex George owned.
Logan had helped me pack the night before at his apartment — the same old suitcase I had arrived with, now supplemented with Academy-issued items that Carter had sourced through his administrative contacts: uniforms in the right size, standard-issue boots, the particular Academy-branded items that would make me look like someone who had always been enrolled rather than someone who had been assembled in three weeks.
The binding was tight and correct. The hair was right. I had practiced the walk until Aiden stopped correcting it. I had projected fabric terminology across rooms until Jasper stopped wincing. I had sat across from Carter for hours while he ran mock
