A Surname Like a Password
“His surname worked in this town like a password” “He had never been summoned anywhere” is the key to the whole scene. Jacob is not simply insolent — he was raised in a world where consequences “dissolved on the far approaches” by themselves. A psyche that has never hit a wall builds no inner brakes: why have brakes where collisions never happen? Conscience is partly learned from consequences — and those were carefully removed from his life.
One detail is worth more than the rest: the thought of his father “stung deeper than all the others, short and cold as a needle” — and he chased it away without examining it. Behind the password-surname stands a man before whom Jacob, it seems, has neither password nor armor. The only real fear in this scene is not expulsion. It is the first hint of what his own armor was once assembled from.