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“Are you afraid of what’s inside?” I ask finally, once the silence between us turns awkward.

She purses her lips. “Something like that.”

More silence passes between us, and I tuck my hair behind my ears, shrugging. “We could go in together. I know the owner, I don’t think he’d let anything happen while he’s inside.”

Not again, anyway.

Kal doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to make the same mistake twice.

The girl tilts her head to the side, giving me a once-over; I shuffle my feet together, uncomfortable with her perusal, currently regretting my decision not to wear underwear beneath this navy shift dress. I can feel everything, including the weight of her stare.

“You know Kal?”

I hold my left hand up, wiggling the diamond there so it glitters in the sunlight, letting the slight pang of jealousy that she knows his name slice through my chest.

Better I embrace it, I suppose, than suppress it.

Puffing her cheeks, she lets out a low whistle, rocking back on her heels. “Oh, so you know him, know him. You must be Elena.”

Pushing her hand between us, she gives a half smile, waiting. I blink at her palm, taking it tentatively, pumping twice like Papá taught me.

When I don’t say anything further, she lets go and presses her lips together. “I’m Violet, by the way.”

“Ah,” I say, roving my eyes over her features again, trying to figure out if I’ve met her somehow and forgotten. In truth, I haven’t done much exploring of Aplana since I’ve been here, except for visiting the farmer’s market a couple of times with Kal and picking up muffins from a bakery on the north end with Marcelline.

Since my last foray out in public didn’t end so well, I’ve sort of holed up at home, resigning myself to a hermit’s life the way I probably would’ve ended up doing as Mrs. De Luca, anyway. At least as Kal’s bride, I’m not being forced to attend or host social events; in fact, most of the time he almost discourages social interaction entirely, content to lock himself in the Asphodel and fuck his time away.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” she says, letting out another little laugh, though this time there’s a hint of irritation lacing it.

“I’m sorry,” I rush out. “I’m new to the island, and—”

Holding up a palm, she shakes her head, and I notice a green tint spread over her thumb; it’s etched into her fingerprints, almost like the color belongs beneath her skin.

“Honestly, it’s fine. I don’t tell anyone about him, why should he tell them about me?”

My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, jealousy burning the back of my throat, even though I’m not exactly sure why. “How do you know him?”

She looks at me silently for several minutes; so long, the jealousy drifts elsewhere, lighting my nerve endings on fire, and part of me wants to give in and lash out accordingly, but I tamp down the reaction, channeling the more evolved thoughts of Kal having a past that doesn’t involve me.

Much of it happened before anything could’ve transpired between us, anyway, regardless of the longevity of my own feelings. They certainly have never been reciprocated, and now that they’re more complicated than ever, I can’t tell where he stands on the issues at all.

Probably at the same place on the map that he’s always been at, using me just like he said in the very beginning.

But if this is what getting used by Hades feels like, I’ll prolong my stay in the Underworld.

Violet licks her lips, playing with the end of one braid as a couple passes by holding hands and talking about visiting the beach. She gets a strange look in those dark eyes, something forlorn and familiar, so I ask my question again, trying to bring her back to the matter at hand.

“How do you know Kal?”

Shifting her eyes toward me, she smiles sadly. “I don’t.”

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