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call went straight to voicemail. Wherever he is, he doesn’t want to be bothered,” his grandfather said, pulling onto the road as Everett buckled his seat belt.
    “Does this mean there’s no lesson tomorrow?”
    His grandfather cursed. “We’ll come back tomorrow. If he isn’t here, I’ll speak with the Order.”
    “What are we going to do about my aura?”
    “I’ll teach you how to conceal when we get home. First, we’re taking a detour to the Four Wings Martial Arts School. I got an interesting call from the master instructor. She’s offering you a scholarship.”
    “Huh?” How had they gotten his grandfather’s number?
    “One of her students noticed that you sat in on several classes and figured you were interested. He convinced the master instructor to give you a scholarship.”
    Bryce convinced Ann?
    “What’s with that smile and blush?” his grandfather asked.
    Everett looked out the window and fought the corners of his smile. “Nothing.”
    “Is that student the one you used spells on?”
    “I used spells on multiple students.”
    “But this one you’re interested in.” His grandfather chuckled. “Your pale skin is a curse. It highlights every blush.”
    Everett’s blush deepened.
    “Is this student the one who drove you home after you fainted?”
    “Not saying.”
    “How old is he?”
    “Not saying.”

Chapter 10
     
     
    THE FIRST class was scheduled to start in a little less than thirty minutes. The building was empty, save for Ann who was typing on the computer in her office.
    The office was a small, square room, professionally furnished with a polished wooden desk, cushioned chairs, file cabinets, a wide-screened computer monitor, and no personal items. No family portraits or trinkets on the desk. No décor. The office could have belonged to anyone.
    Everett and his grandfather sat on the cushioned chairs in front of the desk.
    “We can manage fifty dollars a month,” his grandfather said.
    “It’s still too much.” Everett hated to use money that could be saved for food or gas or bills. They weren’t groveling on the floor for money, but with his upcoming classes at Greenford, money had become scarce.
    “Fifty dollars isn’t much. Compared to the usual price of a hundred sixty, it’s a bargain,” Ann said.
    “We’ll still be saving money when we move to the shop,” his grandfather said.
    Everett hadn’t thought his grandfather would be accepting of the classes. He did want the classes, wanted to get closer to the dojang — and Bryce—but he didn’t want to cost his grandfather. He felt enough guilt forcing them to abandon his parents’ home and move to the shop. Even if private lessons opened a window in his investigation, he could find another way. He could visit a small-group session or a private lesson if he was allowed. He didn’t have to spend fifty dollars for this.
    “How does forty feel?” Ann asked.
    Now Everett felt guilt for robbing the dojang of its profits.
    “I wouldn’t want to lower your revenue,” Everett murmured.
    What would it take to decline the classes and go home? The shop was still closed. Everett could imagine the potential customers standing before its glass doors, staring at the “Will Return” paper clock taped to the surface.
    “You’re very considerate, as Bryce said. It’s a very admirable trait in martial arts,” Ann said.
    Martial arts and consideration? Everett saw no connection, and he didn’t want to.
    “I honestly don’t think I’d be very good at martial arts. I don’t have the black-belt mindset mentioned in your student creed—” Ann smiled at the reference, leaning forward as if she had something to say about the creed. “—and I don’t have the body to train.”
    “You’re considerate, but not with yourself. You lack self-confidence, and we can help with that.”
    “I don’t—”
    Someone jogged to the office. “Hey, Kwang — Everett? I thought you said you weren’t coming.”
    Bryce leaned