I nod. Silence again. Unless you reach Class Three. I don’t want to ask. It feels too much like conceding defeat, admitting I actually care what she thinks. “You’ll do well.” She volunteers the statement as begrudgingly as anything she’s ever said. She’s facing straight ahead, though for all I know she could be focused on my expression. “If you keep working, there’s a chance you can do what you need to do.” “Find what you and Ulciscor are looking for?” “Get into Class Three.” I swallow. Tension drains out of my shoulders as I acknowledge the statement. Then I allow myself a grin. “You think
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