Chapter 4

The next day's replay of the evaluation was uglier than anyone expected. The trial made us retake the candidate test from five years ago. Failure wouldn't kill anyone.

But if half the inner circle failed, Damian's right to inherit would be suspended. No one dared phone it in. Cecilia sat one row ahead of me and to the side.

She was still smiling when the questions arrived. The first half covered route planning and warehouse logistics. Before twenty minutes had passed, that smile was gone.

Large sections of her paper remained blank. People in the back row began glancing at her.

"Cecilia?

"How are you doing over there?"

She pressed her lips together.

"Still working it out."

Time was running out. Damian quickly finished his section. Someone lowered his voice and begged him for a hint.

Damian checked the clock and walked everyone through only the bare-minimum answers they'd need to survive.

"I can only get you a passing score.

"If you want a high one, earn it yourself."

Cecilia grew even paler. With ten minutes left, she suddenly pressed a hand to her temple.

"I don't feel well.

"Maybe I didn't sleep enough last night."

In the past, everyone would have rushed to her. Now, no one dared move first. The earlier rounds had taught them all one thing.

Cecilia's words could no longer be accepted as fact. A bell marked the end of the test, and the results appeared on a clear screen.

Damian scored eighty-seven. Most people barely passed. So did I.

Cecilia: perfect score. The hall was quiet for two seconds. Then everyone erupted.

"Seriously?"

"She didn't even finish!"

"The entire second half was blank!"

Cecilia jerked her head up.

"That's an old score."

The system quickly explained. This round graded our current work and pulled the historical records from five years ago. The perfect score under Cecilia's name was from back then.

Damian stared at the number. "Pull up the original files." No one objected. The sealed records opened within seconds.

Several top-scoring answer sheets under Cecilia's name appeared in turn. The route markings, shorthand, and evacuation patterns were all there. Damian's expression darkened after the first page.

He dragged one sheet beside the answers I'd just submitted. They were identical, and not just in the handwriting.

It was in the habits people developed when making decisions. I always circled danger points twice. On evacuation routes, I listed people before supplies.

Every number started in the upper right corner. Cecilia's work in the present used a completely different system. Someone murmured, "So back then..."

No one finished the thought. I did it for him.

"It was me back then, too."

Cecilia whipped around.

"Shut up."

I smiled.

"Why are you so nervous?

"Haven't you always said I was stupid and only ever got in the way?

"I'm just putting my name back where it belongs."

Cecilia's face went white, then gray.

"Then why didn't you ever say anything back then?"

"I did."

I held her gaze.

"You held back Maria's next shipment of medicine.

"The second time, I said nothing.

"The third time, I said nothing again.

"Eventually, everyone got used to it.

"You were the best candidate.

"And I was the useless one who could barely pass."

The room went completely silent. Damian suddenly rose without looking at Cecilia.

He walked over to the old answer sheets and turned through them one by one. At last, he stopped at the earliest sheet. A faint alteration showed on the page.

My name had been written there first. Cecilia's had been placed over it later. Damian stared at it for a long time.

Then he asked me, "How many times did you take her tests?" I thought about it.

"I don't remember."

This time, he had nothing at all to say.