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a threat to the school troubled him—Desert Mountain meant everything to Jack.
    â€œAfraid she’ll figure out I’m better than you?”
    Jack smiled. “I’m concerned about team cohesion, not that she’ll suddenly lose all sense of reality.”
    Jack’s grandfather had been a war hero, and he’d instilled in Jack an intense loyalty to the United States. As an extension, he felt intrinsically indebted to the Academy and, more specifically, the dean of students.
    As if on cue, Dean Wolfe turned up the sidewalk from Hopi Hall. Jack straightened in his seat. He peered over the balcony, watching. Someone followed—a girl he didn’t know.
We don’t get a lot of visitors
.
    â€œWhy don’t you ever go out?” Noah asked. “Girls call for you all the time.”
    â€œI’m busy,” Jack said. Dean Wolfe escorted his guest toward the library. She rushed to keep up, leaning into the hill as she followed. A lock of hair slipped from her bun and fell along her face.
    â€œWhat are you looking at?” Noah twisted around in his chair. “Who’s she?”
    â€œHow should I know?”
    Wolfe stopped in front of the library. He pointed toward the patio—toward Jack—and the girl looked up. Her full lips parted slightly as the loose curl blew across her cheek.
    â€œWow,” said Noah. “Not bad, huh?”
    Jack’s breath quickened. He leaned back in his seat so his face was out of sight.
    No. Not bad at all
.

8
NADIA
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 11
    Nadia followed Dean Wolfe up the sidewalk to the library. He pointed to the stone fortress at the top of the hill. “The Navajo Building houses the dining hall and the student lounge.” On the upper patio, students gathered at tables, books and papers spread around them. A rush of anxiety washed over her. She was glad for the uniforms. Maybe she could fake fitting in. He gestured toward a shaded path lined with olive trees. “And the psychiatrist’s office is through here.”
    Nadia hesitated.
    â€œIt’s standard procedure.”
    â€œOkay. I, uh—why?”
    â€œHe’s the school counselor.”
    â€œI see.”
So why didn’t you say, it’s time to meet the counselor?
    Across the lawn Nadia’s recruiter, Marcus Sloan, stepped from the side door of a Japanese-style building and glanced around. When he saw Nadia and the Dean, he stopped.
    Wolfe narrowed his eyes as they settled on Sloan. “He’s got some nerve,” he muttered.
    â€œI’m sorry?”
    â€œWait here,” he said. “Marcus!” Dean Wolfe marched toward him. Nadia barely caught his next words. “She’s here; are you happy?”
    Is he talking about me?
She tried to watch the interaction without looking directly at them. She could no longer hear the words, but it was clear they were arguing. Dean Wolfe pointed at Mr. Sloan in quick, decisive movements. Sloan stood with his arms crossed, a small smile on his lips. Nadia waited in the crushing heat, nervous about their argument, nervous about meeting the shrink.
    When the Dean returned, she asked, “Is everything okay?”
    â€œEverything’s fine.” His tone was sharper now. “Dr. Cameron is expecting you. Through here.” He showed her to a small waiting room. “He’ll be out in a minute. If you have questions, stop by my office.” He left before she could answer.
    Nadia had never visited a psychiatrist.
He’s a guidance counselor. It’s no big deal
. She paced back and forth across the terra-cotta tile.
    Dr. Cameron’s door opened and he invited her in. His stark office, devoid of personal effects, was nothing like she’d anticipated. The naked concrete floor and bare walls gave the feel of an interrogation room. She sat in the only chair available, a folding chair with a metal frame and built-in seat cushion. Nice as far as folding chairs go, but