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I can’t come back to Ravenscroft. At least not yet. Possibly not ever at this point. It kills me to know you’re there and out of my reach. But keeping you safe is the most important thing.
Think of me tonight when you slip into your dreams. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll see each other there.
Yours,
Noah
I let the paper fall from my fingers, releasing a heavy sigh. My heart ached. It was almost worse now that I’d heard from him. It brought our separation back into focus, sharpening the edges and cutting me wide open.
“At least he’s trying to stay in touch with you,” Moira offered softly.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“You okay?”
I wiped away a tear with the back of my hand, forcing myself to move past my sadness. “I’ll be fine. I just miss him.”
“I get it. I really do. I miss Ash like crazy.”
“Can she come visit again?”
Moira shook her head. “Not for a while. But we’re making it work.”
I took a shuddering breath. “What if he doesn’t come back?”
“I don’t know.”
That same whooshing noise filled the room, and another light glowed and faded, this time at the door rather than my bed. Hope lit in my chest. “Another one?”
“Maybe he forgot something?” Moira added, bounding to the door and snatching the piece of paper, but this one was different. It was rolled and wrapped with a deep scarlet ribbon. She opened the scroll, and her eyes widened.
“What is it?”
“You’ve been summoned to the headmistress’s office. Shit, Sunday, what did you do now?”
Unease prickled the back of my neck, settling in an icy patch between my shoulder blades. I only had this feeling when I was in trouble, and here at Ravenscroft, I seemed to be in trouble a lot.
“Maybe it’s because I missed so many classes?” I guessed, knowing even as I said it, there was no way it was something that simple. I had a gift for breaking rules I didn’t know existed.
“Yeah,” Moira agreed, though it lacked conviction. “That must be it.”
I kicked my legs over the side of the bed with the same level of enthusiasm one might have when facing a firing squad.
“Do you think I need to dress for a funeral?”
Moira smirked. “Hold that thought.” She wiggled her fingers and murmured something under her breath, and before I knew it, I was dressed like a perfectly modest yet absolutely sinful Catholic schoolgirl.
I laughed. “Not quite what I meant, but okay.”
Moira winked. “Trust me. That look is going to work wonders for you.”
“On the headmistress?”
She shrugged. “In life.”
“You’re a nut.”
“I’m allergic to nuts.”
