“If you can actually do this stuff,” she told Ian as they studied in the first-floor library at Nightingale Hall, “they let you stay in school and get a degree, which, if you can do this stuff, you probably don’t even need.” Cath nodded. “And if you can’t do it,” she grumbled, her head bent over a book, “they send you home, and your parents disown you and kick you out of the house to wander through town the rest of your life carrying all of your belongings in a shopping bag.”
