Page 7 of Violet

“I’m alright, dear.” I pull my hand away, steel my shoulders, and turn to the stack of books in her hands. I even remember to give myself five points. “Are you returning these?”

“Sort of.” Gwinnie gives me an odd look, but one I recognize. Even after all these years, all this time apart, I know she’s hiding something. And that something has to do with me.

Did she figure out who I am? Is that why she’s here? I feel myself starting to sweat. What if she tells everyone in Silver Springs? Or makes a huge scene? What if they find me?

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Gwinnie asks.

I try to remember to breathe.

There’s no way she knows the truth! I haven’t shifted in public once since moving to Silver Springs, though she probably wouldn’t recognize me if I had. But they would. Which is why I’ve always made sure I was inside the apartment, with the door locked and the curtains drawn.

I haven’t even half-shifted, not all those times I’d been so tempted. And I’ve definitely never made the mistake of calling her Gwinnie.

“I’m fine, Amber,” I say softly.

Amber. That’s what she goes by now, just like I go by Violet, not Adelyn. Leave it to our mother to call us by our middle names our whole lives and never bother telling us our legal first names.

I only found out mine when I got my driver’s license and needed my birth certificate. Didn’t start using it until I went away to college and needed a fresh start, away from my mother. And I definitely never knew Gwinnie’s first name was Amber, not until the first time I entered Jewels Cafe.

There’s no way she knows who I am. I’ve been so careful around her, watching my every word. I even made a show of counting out small change from a coin purse the few times I’ve stopped by the cafe.

“You sure you don’t need to sit down?” Gwinnie—Amber—presses.

Even if she suspects, it’s time that I prove her wrong.

“A rest does sound nice, dear,” I tell her—five points—and make a show of slowly, painfully settling in on my walker—another ten. “Now let me check those books in for you.”

Amber sets them down on the counter and I scan them in one by one. Marketing book: probably for the cafe. Gardening book: Amber or one of her guys must have picked up a new hobby. Love Blooms by C. C. Pine: looks like a romance novel.

The girl on the cover—who’s wearing floral undies, of all things—suddenly flickers. Then, for a split second, she looks like me: young me, not old lady me.

“It’s a reverse harem romance,” Amber says.

I jump and nearly toss the book across the counter.

Not because it’s RH—I’ve read plenty of those. One girl with multiple men doesn’t shock me. What I just saw—or think I saw—does.

Did Amber see the shifting cover model too? Does she know?

Panic flares, and my heart pounds wildly in my chest. My eyes snap up to Amber’s, but she’s just being her usual self. As her sister, I would know!

Or would I?

I haven’t seen Amber in years. Haven’t spoken more than a dozen words to her until today. Which is probably the reason I’m freaking out. This is the first time I’ve talked to her one-on-one like this, without the line at Jewels Cafe stretching behind me, or one of her mates around.

Get it together, Violet! It was just your old eyes playing tricks on you!

I take a steadying break and peek down at the book again. I make sure to tilt the cover away from Amber, just in case, but it doesn’t flicker. It doesn’t do anything, really. Because it’s just a normal paperback, Violet! Well, normal-ish, if you ignore the cover model’s choice of wardrobe, the funny-looking shirtless dudes, and the lack of barcode.

“Is it a library book?” I flip the book over in case it somehow ended up on the back.

“Oh yeah. I mean, no. It’s a donation.”

“Is it? I haven’t heard of C. C. Pine.” Not that I’m surprised. There are so many reverse harem authors out there. Working full-time at the library—and buying all the books for the Spell collection—means I’m familiar with most of them, but definitely not all.

“Pine is a new author.”

“Oh, that explains it.” I flip the book open to a random scene and read a paragraph. “A swan who owns a shoe store... why does that seem familiar?”