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A set of steps led up to the library, the doors of which were paneled in glass. "That's kind of Crane's thing too—law as power. I think he's going to like you," he said as we climbed, his hand on the brass railing nailed to the wall beside him.

"Well, that's the goal. Isn't it?" I replied. "That's what everyone wants...to be Crane's favorite student."

His head jerked, and he watched me over his shoulder as he pushed the door open, holding it for me as I walked inside.

"So you've heard about all that?"

Audrey had been his favorite once, recipient of special care, and particular attention. But it was in Philadelphia that I learned this was not a one-off sort of thing. A girl named Kyra, whose dorm room was three doors down from my own, had told me Crane was known for playing favorites with his students. If you found yourself chosen, all manner of advantages flowed your way: your pick of internships, clerkships, or an introduction to any of his many judicial, academic, and political contacts—catnip to the overachieving nerds and the legacy surnames filling the halls at Franklin. Rumor had it that he would whisper in the ear of the influential, telling those in power that you were special, a cut above the rest, someone deserving of every opportunity, someone like them.

Scanning my student card at the turnstile, I gave a small shrug. "Sure... I mean, as soon as people hear I'm in Law and Lit, they ask me about it. Seems like a bit of a fixation around here." The metal spokes turned, making a mechanical sound as I pushed through.

Joshua pulled a face. "That's probably true. A word of advice, Jessie? Some people are pretty cutthroat about all that favorite stuff. You might not want to get involved."

I smiled but didn't offer a response as he followed me through the turnstile. The competitive atmosphere at Franklin was more heightened than I was used to. Along the corridors, in the ladies' restrooms, on the courtyard, I would catch snippets of conversations from the other students, the topics almost always of future plans, career ambitions, the summer associateships they were chasing, or the letters of recommendation they planned to collect from particular professors. Introductions needed, grades desired, achievements fueling hunger for more.

The persistent, weighty sensation of other people's ambitions sat on me from that first day. But my own ambition was made of altogether darker stuff, and I passed through the corridors feeling like a wolf among sheep. Becoming one of Crane's favorites was the obvious way to gain his trust and it would allow me to lure him closer without making him suspicious of my motives. He wouldn't notice how I bent him to my will, how I tugged on a string and made his limbs rise, marionette-style, at my command.

In front of the librarian's desk, I glanced at my watch. We were nearly at the hour. In a matter of minutes, Crane would enter my life. Everything depended on this first introduction. If he recognized anything of Audrey in me, my plan would be over before it began. All it would take was something small, my manner of speech, my posture, a turn of phrase, a facial expression we shared. Something subtle that could trigger a memory of my sister and then...well.

I had taken the precaution of enrolling as Jessica Mooney, dropping the Flynn from the double-barrel surname our parents had given us. Audrey and I usually went by Mooney-Flynn, or just Flynn for short. And since Crane had known Audrey Mooney-Flynn in Dublin, I had to hope he wouldn't suspect the Jessica Mooney who was about to show up in his class in Philadelphia. I couldn't drop the name entirely, since Mooney was on my passport. It was a common name in Ireland, but it was, nevertheless, a risk I couldn't avoid. I didn't know what Crane might do if forced to protect himself.

With a deep breath, I tried to steel my nerves. All the years, all the planning, and all the effort could come to nothing. And then what would I do? What was left for me?

In the hush of the library, Joshua and I fell silent, the carpet underfoot muffling our steps. Fear was wrapped, like a metal cable, around my chest, squeezing ever tighter. Room 1.04B was just ahead, hidden away at the back of the library, on the other side of the bookshelves.

The moment had finally come. It was time to meet Crane.

CHAPTER THREE

I let Joshua lead the way past the students ensconced in their individual neat wooden kiosks. A few heads bobbed up from books and laptop screens, some eyes meeting mine briefly, then dropping again. They were wearing the same branded merchandise from the university bookstore, a uniform of sweats and shorts, hoodies and hats. Bodies emblazoned with the loud public message that we were part of a club, a higher echelon, specially chosen from all the others.

The door was plain and unassuming, a small metal plaque, the size of a business card, confirming it was room 1.04B. Without Joshua, I might have walked right past it, taking it for a storeroom or part of the library stacks.

"After you," Joshua said, opening the door for me.