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“Nonsense, Anora,” Jayne looks at me. “She dances and sings when she bakes. I used to creep into the living room and listen to her. She has the prettiest voice.”
Anora seems surprised—her eyes widen, just before they fall to her food, her face flushed. There is silence for a moment, and the lull allows a strange, suffocating tension to settle. I take a deep breath, inhaling the thick air.
“Well, you both surpass me. I can’t even cook an egg.”
Jayne laughs while Anora’s anxiety rises like a tide, swelling. For the remainder of lunch, she’s disengaged from conversation and doesn’t touch her food, preferring to keep one hand on a gold chain at her neck while she chews her lip. I wonder what is on the end of that necklace. Maybe I should ask...but for some reason I feel I should earn the right to know what rests beside her heart.
“It was great having you over, Shy. I’ll talk to Guiliana about dinner sometime,” Jayne says as we walk to the door.
“I look forward to it, Ms. Silby.”
Anora walks me to my car. She’s quiet, and I can tell by the look on her face she’s still trying to figure me out. She’s smart. All that small-talk might have convinced another human I wasn’t after anything, but Anora has seen things. Experienced things. She knows my tactics.
Because someone’s used them before.
“New York?” I finally ask.
“Mom misspoke.”
I raise a brow, but don’t press.
“Does your mom know you can see the dead?” I ask.
She sort of laughs, like that's a ludicrous idea. “No. She just thinks I'm crazy.”
I nod. All their awkward pauses and tension make sense now.
“I don't know what happened before you got here, but I'm not going to hurt you.”
Then she says something that disarms me. “He said that, too.”
“Chase Lockwood?” I ask.
I’m impressed by her reaction—absolutely nothing. Her jaw doesn’t tighten, her eyes don’t narrow.
“We’re not all like him.” I’m tempted to tell her that Chase acted alone, but that’s revealing too much of myself. I focus on her hands, shoved in her jacket pockets. “Put the obsidian in your windowsill.”
I climb into my Jeep. As I leave, I glance in my rearview mirror. Anora's still standing on the sidewalk outside her house, watching me go. I wrap my fingers around the steering wheel tight, fighting the urge to turn around and stay with her until she trusts me.
Instead, I put my foot to the gas and speed away.
When I get home, Lily is waiting for me. She sits on the steps, elbows resting on her knees. She's dressed in jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt. The hood is pulled up, covering her head.
“Hey,” I say as I get out of my Jeep. “You know Mom's inside.”
“I didn't want to bother her,” Lily says, and I know it's because she's embarrassed.
I take a seat beside her. “How long have you been waiting?”
“Not long. Where were you?”
I pause before answering—something I probably shouldn’t do, because it implies guilt. “With Anora.”
Lily looks confused. “I know we promised each other we wouldn't ask—but I have to, Shy. What are you doing with her?”
“Nothing, Lils. Seriously. I'm just...we're just friends.” It is hard to use that word after the interaction I’d just had with her, but what am I supposed to say? I feel better when I’m around her, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t trust me as far as she can throw me, and I’m also sure she killed Chase Lockwood...which, according to what I learned at Council would make her the Eurydice.
“I've never seen you act like this with a human girl. You're going out of your way to see her—to look at her. Don't think I haven't noticed.”
