Councilman Richard Sterling. Mid-fifties. Silver hair. Cold blue eyes that had never looked at me with anything but contempt.
He was the one. Had to be.
I forced myself to stay calm. To walk to the desk. To sit down like nothing was wrong.
Thaddeus sat at the center of the council table. His expression was neutral. Gave nothing away. But his eyes flicked to Sterling. Back to me. A silent warning. I know. Be careful.
“We’ll begin with the written examination,” Thaddeus said. Voice formal. Official. “You have two hours. No outside materials. No assistance. Any violation results in immediate failure.”
Sterling stepped forward. Placed a thick packet on my desk. His fingers lingered on the paper. A small smile played at his lips.
This was it. The sabotaged test. The impossible questions a
