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of my confusion, I heard a sibilant shhh of air rise up from the audience. I looked out across the jumble of smiling faces, searching for the source of the sound—until my eyes fixed on a familiar glower.
    My father glared at me across the sea of heads. His jaw was set firmly, his lips pursed. I felt the searing burn of blood rise up across my cheeks and throat. Blushing furiously, I crumpled the paper into a ball in my fist.
    •  •  •
    “Stand up straight,” my father commanded before turning to Hannah’s father.
    The ceremony was over. I held a plate of pickles and chopped liver out in front of me as if they could shield me from the horrors of small talk. My classmates all seemed to move easily through the crowd, laughing and chattering with one another. Even Rachel had drifted away, flirting with Silvan in the corner, leaving me here with my family—and sinking fast.
    “We thought we’d all go down to the hatchery,” Hannah said. I could feel her pointed gaze upon me. “And visit your niece.”
    The thought of being around all those wires and bio-conduitsmade my stomach flip-flop. “No, really, thank you,” I muttered in a low tone. “I promised Rachel’s parents I’d eat with them.”
    “The Federmans are merchants,” my father said, pursing his lips as though the idea tasted bad. Beside him, my brother cast his eyes to the floor. He wasn’t much better than a merchant—only a carpenter. But the gold thread in his cord meant that we pretended he wasn’t. “But the Meyers are Council members. And you’re a specialist now, Terra. You shouldn’t—”
    “I promised ,” I said again, my words hotter this time. I could feel how Hannah’s family stared at me, waiting to see if I’d crack. I decided that I would spare them that. I shoved my plate into Ronen’s hands and turned on the heels of my boots. “I’m out of here.”
    “Terra!” my father called as I went to grab my bag from the coatroom. “Terra, come back here!”
    But I ignored him, leaning my hands against the heavy doors, hustling down the long hall toward the lift. Who did he think he was, anyway? Rachel was my friend , my oldest friend. I slammed my palm hard against the lift’s lock, waiting in the dim light for the doors to come shuddering open.
    Footsteps sounded down at the far end of the hall.
    “If you’re here to lecture me . . .,” I began, turning. But my words puttered out when I saw that it was not Abba who hustled toward me. It was Benjamin Jacobi, of all people. The librarian.
    “Mar Jacobi,” I said. My words sounded thin, annoyed. I suppose that I was. “What are you doing here? Don’t you already have a talmid ?” I thought he did, at least. A redheaded boy. He’d been in Ronen’s class.
    “I always attend on Vocation Day. It’s a mitzvah, you know.” His dark eyes sparkled like he was making a joke. But I didn’t get it.
    “I know,” was all I said.
    And then there was a burp of awkward silence. Mar Jacobi reached over, pressing his hand to the lift panel—as though I hadn’t just done so myself. “Do you mind if I join you on your trip down? I hate all of this chitchat. I’m really very eager to get out of here.”
    I couldn’t help but smile at that. I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. “Oh!” I said. “I hate it too.”
    “I suspected you might,” Mar Jacobi said as the door at long last dinged open. He held it open for me. “You’ve always been remarkably like your mother.”
    Momma! I felt a stab of emotion. She’d seemed so composed, so charming. Nothing at all like me. We stepped into the huge lift. Our voices echoed against the walls.
    “She hated small talk too?” I asked. Mar Jacobi let out a chuckle.
    “Oh, yes,” he said. “Of course, you would have never known it at first. But she used to say that you can’t really get to know a person until you’ve broken bread with them.”
    “You must have known her pretty well,” I said, less a