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She cuts me off with a raised palm despite my wiles, and it takes willpower for me not to gape at her. Is she … not affected by me? Doesn’t she want to linger, lay her head on my shoulder and cry? That’s what I want her to do.

“No,” she says. “I’m exhausted from tonight and my friend is still dead. You’re spinning insane theories. I, however, am going to sleep.”

Without another word, she shuts the door behind her.

Bellatrix jumps off the couch where she’d been bumping her head against Lacie and scratches the door. The implication is clear.

“No, I am not going after her. Let her wallow.”

Bellatrix sniffs at me.

“You can lead a horse to water and all that.” I stretch my arms overhead and slink to my bedroom. “Let’s go watch some TV? I have the newest episode of Arcane ready to go!”

Perturbed but unwilling to pass up a snuggle, Bellatrix follows me onto black silken sheets. “Thank goddess one of you knows how to take a little bribe.” I scratch her ears and reach for the remote and ignore that I’d rather have Lacie next to me, too.

The morning arrives altogether too swiftly. It’s like I didn’t even nap at all. Bellatrix is sitting on my head in that way cats do, kneading and purring insistently like I’ll forget to feed her for the first time ever.

I shoo her away. “Alright, alright, I’m awake. Satan’s teeth.” After showering and brushing my teeth three times, I slip into a black sweater dress. Perhaps I can stand pulling a page from Lacie’s playbook: black back-seam tights. It’s chilly out there, and I know she’ll notice. As I swipe on lipstick and mix Bellatrix’s food, my phone buzzes.

Little Lamb: Are you up?

Is this a booty call?

Little Lamb: Stop that

Little Lamb: Let’s grab a coffee?

That sounds lovely. A moment please.

I dab my oxblood lips in the mirror and grab my things. Though I’m not teaching until next semester, I gather that the easiest way to stay off Dean Shea’s radar is to hole up in the library and only show up when necessary to prove I’m under his wing. They want to look at me, not hear me speak.

When I open the door, Lacie’s standing opposite. She has a Kindle in her hands, her brow furrowed as she reads. Damn, she had, what, two minutes before I came out? She’s already lost in a book? But I take the few seconds to study her: dark plaid skirt, knee-high socks the color of spilled cream, a crewneck sweater in navy. Her glasses wink over pink cheeks and ever pinker lips. Her blond hair curtains over her face, silky and curled at the ends. She looks like a frosted petit four, sweet to see and even sweeter to taste.

She notices my gaze finally and looks up. “How long were you there?” She tucks her Kindle into her shoulder bag.

“Long enough,” I say, smiling. Despite myself, even! She’s making me soft. Annoying and pig-headed though she may be, I can’t stop myself from looking. “Shall we?”

She nods and we tiptoe past undergrad doors still closed against the pale morning light. At 6 AM, most won’t even begin their days for hours. Someone left three open beers, only partly drunk, outside a door—probably a prank. Snickering, I point it out to Lacie. She grins as we step outside into the chirping dawn.

“Should we help the poor soul?”

“Absolutely not,” I say as we walk down the path, my Louboutins clicking brightly. “They should have their fun.”

“Were you a terror in undergrad?”

I’m so fucking old I can barely remember. Also, I forged my undergraduate degree. When women weren’t allowed in college, I slipped in after dark and did the work myself. Damned if I didn’t earn that piece of paper and more. But Lacie doesn’t need to know that I’m a thief and a liar; no more than she suspects, anyway.

“No, not really. I was quiet as a mouse.”

“Really?” Lacie gives me a pointed look.

I nod, steering her away from the Perk and the student center. I heard there’s a cute coffee shop just outside of Preston’s gates, close to town, and I think perhaps Lacie will be happier there, to get off campus and leave her ghosts behind. “Come, let’s get some good coffee that hasn’t been brewed by an exhausted undergrad. I don’t know if it matters to you, but they have single-origin roasts at a place nearby.”

A soft smile blooms on her face. “That … actually sounds lovely.”

We cross the quad and I look into the high, bluing sky, at a cardinal chittering on a branch. Lacie’s smile makes me feel a little more human, and after hundreds of years of keeping my walls firmly up, it’s nice to open the gate, even if just an inch.

What a wonder.