I wake up.

I didn’t get any vision dreams again. Have I lost them for good?

My head and ribs feel much better, and by the time I get to the kitchen and gobble down a couple of Felix’s blueberry banana pancakes, I feel almost as good as on an average Friday morning.

I even put on a dress for work—to appease Felix’s conservative parents, whom I’m meeting for lunch today.

“I don’t think it was Chester who pushed you into the water,” Felix says after I share my adventures with him. “It just doesn’t seem like his style.”

“Then what do you think is going on?” Ariel is eating a pancake with her hands today, like a cavewoman.

“No idea.” He scratches the top of his head. “I can try to see if any security cameras recorded the incident, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

We brainstorm theories for the rest of the meal, but nothing we can think of explains the mystery on the pier.

Excusing myself, I feed Fluffster, put on a pair of ballet flats to match my dress, and head out.

“Remember, we have lunch later today,” Felix reminds me as I’m closing the front door behind me.

“See you there,” I say and rush to work.

When I get to my desk, two emails from Nero await me.

In the first one, he waxes ecstatic at my good decisions last night, so I seem to have done a bit better than a blindfolded monkey—my luck must still hold.

In the second email, Nero asks me to research another boatload of stocks before lunch—some fifty percent more than yesterday morning.

I research most of the stocks as well as I can, but for the ones that fall into the second half of the alphabet (about a quarter of them), I decide to cheat and make my recommendations based on pure instinct—without any data but the name of the company.

My hope is that even if Nero loses some money on this smaller subset of stocks, he’ll lessen my insane workload instead of firing me.

Finishing my write-up ten minutes before the deadline, I look for something to do before leaving for lunch.

A business card Nero gave me yesterday catches my eye.

With everything that’s happened, I completely forgot about “Orientation,” whatever it is. I even forgot to ask my roommates about it.

Picking up my phone, I dial the number on the card.

“Dr. Hekima speaking,” says a deep, melodic voice that sounds like it could easily narrate nature documentaries. “How can I help you?”

“Hi. My name is Sasha.” I lock my computer. “Sasha Urban.”

“Ah,” Dr. Hekima says excitedly. “You’re the new student I was told to expect.”

“A student?” I swivel in my chair. “So is Orientation some form of schooling for the C—”

“This isn’t a phone conversation,” Dr. Hekima says, and for the first time, I detect a mild accent in his speech—maybe South African? “Can you come see me during my office hours this Saturday?”

“Of course,” I say. “Where and at what time?”

“Would two p.m. work for you?” he asks and gives me the address—which, unfortunately, is in Queens.

“That works,” I say after a moment of hesitation.

“We’re just above the very first train station in Queens,” he says. “If you take the M—”

“I’m sure I’ll find it. Looking forward to speaking with you, Dr. Hekima.”

“Likewise,” he says and hangs up.

I look at the clock on my phone and jump to my feet.

If I don’t run now, I’ll be late for lunch with Felix’s family.

I’ve been to Brighton Beach three times before this. Once to swim and stroll the boardwalk, once when Felix convinced Ariel and me to try “the best caviar and vodka in the world,” and another time as I was passing by on my way to the theme park at Coney Island. Known as Little Odessa, this neighborhood has the largest population of Russian immigrants in the Western Hemisphere.

I scan the storefronts that all have Cyrillic writing on them. If Fluffster really did belong to my biological parents, then they probably spoke Russian—meaning that if I hadn’t been left at the airport, I’d be able to read all these signs.

I stop next to a building covered by the renovation scaffolding that’s so common in New York, and pull out my phone. I’m a couple of minutes early, and according to the GPS, the restaurant is two blocks away.

Suddenly, a feeling of intense alarm overcomes me.

Without knowing why, I jump to the side.

A brick smashes into the pavement where I stood only a moment ago.