Everyone stays very still while Ivy’s family is escorted away. Only then does the crowd begin to disperse, a great mass shifting toward the front gate.
Except for Lainey.
She and Griffin slip away in the opposite direction. They dart across the dark, snow-dusted field. I try to get Twig’s attention, but he’s too far ahead with Kate. Harper is crying with a group of classmates, all of them theater kids.
In the distance, Lainey and Griffin slip into the equipment tunnel.
I pivot on my heel and hurry after them.
“What are you doing?”
I glance over my shoulder and spot Naomi following me. I put my finger to my lips and creep closer to the tunnel.
“Selah,” Naomi hisses.
Shushing her, I come to a stop near the entrance.
I can hear them talking inside.
“They’re probably making out,” Naomi whispers. “Which is highly inappropriate.”
I shush her again and peek around the corner.
Lainey and Griffin stand together, alone in thedark tunnel. Lainey is giggling—laughing with Griffin—and for a moment, I think Naomi is right. They came here to make out, whichis, in fact, highly inappropriate. But then Lainey lifts her arm in this strange way and the dots on her wrist ignite, no candlelight needed.
Griffin doesn’t seem to notice.
Lainey lets him kiss her neck.
The air crackles and hums, like it did that night in the music room during the masquerade ball, and with a juddering heart, I watch as the air splits.
Lainey has opened a rift.
With the glowing dots on her wrist.
Griffin doesn’t see it.
Naomi whispers under her breath, oblivious as well.
I need to move. Call out a warning. Yell at Griffin. But my feet are frozen—my voice, too. I can do nothing but stare in wide-eyed horror as Lainey shoves him with more strength than a girl her size should have. He tumbles through the opening and disappears.
Naomi sucks in a loud, gasping breath.
Lainey’s head snaps in our direction.
Her eyes glow like the marks on her wrist.
I clap my hand over Naomi’s mouth and drag her backward, into the shadows. My pulse poundsin my ears as I peek around the corner just in time to see Lainey follow him. I take my hand off Naomi’s mouth and step into the tunnel. But I’m too late. The rift is already closing behind her.
Naomi is hyperventilating.
Her chest rises and falls erratically as she splutters, “He disappeared. He just—disappeared. And her eyes. Her eyes were glowing. They were glowing. And now she’s—where did she go? Where did they go?”
All the while, Rafe’s words reverberate in my mind like a trapped echo.
Lainey isn’t Lainey.
14
