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“Oh God, leave me alone.” I close my eyes. My chest feels compressed. I can’t breathe right.

Lying makes me antsy. One thing I’m discovering is that lying engenders more lies, and the more lies you tell, the harder it is to keep the story straight.

Brianna doesn’t get up and go, though. She stays there, looking out at the lake. The clouds pass overhead.

“You’re cold,” she finally says. “Maybe we should head back.”

I nod, biting my lower lip. Going back means facing the music, facing what I have to do, what I’m pretending I can do.

I just need another minute…

But Brianna gets up and reaches a hand down for me. “Come on. You’ll get sick and you’re already behind in class. It’s our final school year, baby. Graduate and then do whatever you want.”

“Thanks for caring about my classes.” I glower at her.

“Come on, Mia.”

With a sigh, I accept the help and let her lift me to my feet, then yank my hand free. Upright, I feel the wind even more. It cuts through my wet clothes like a knife.

“A storm is coming.” She frowns up at the sky. “I wondered how long the good weather would last.”

“All good things come to an end,” I whisper.

“That’s so doom and gloom.” She shoots me a quick grin. “We should get going before the rain starts.”

“What do you care?” I mutter as we head back toward the dormitories.

She shrugs. “After that“Ya all know I’m a witch”bomb you dropped, I knew that everyone would be curious, but also that not everyone would be pleased. I was worried, so I looked for you. I guess you have your reasons for being here,” she says. “For not telling the truth. All of that. For wanting to go after the purebloods.”

She could be telling the truth. Her face doesn’t betray much. “I meant, why have you been helping me all along? You’re Zoey’s girl. Her future stylist or whatever.”

“Pft. As if I’d want to be a stylist. I like fashion and all that, but that’s not my dream.”

I lift a brow at her. “And what is your dream then?”

“Not sure yet. I like…transforming people. And things. I liked transforming you. It was like… tearing off the outer shell to see what’s inside, you know?”

“You still sound like you might want to be a stylist.” I grin at her.

“Maybe.” She grins back. “Who knows? Or art restorer, perhaps?”

“Do you like art?”

“It’s cool.” She shrugs. “I like drawing. I’m not that special, but it does interest me.”

And how did I end up walking back to campus, trailing water, talking about Brianna’s future plans? No idea. But it’s taking my mind off everything that happened, and the small respite helps. By the time we reach our dormitory, I’m feeling better.

Plus, the idea that Brianna is on my side makes me feel kind of safer. I need allies. Apart from Vanessa, I don’t think I have any—and I still don’t know how Vanessa feels about my new status.

It’s not until Brianna has gone off to her own room and I’m in mine that I remember I don’t have Zoey’s clothes anymore and should have asked Brianna if she has anything to lend me.

I guess, for now, the ugly duckling is back…

6

EMRYS

“Great fucking job, Rys,” Ashton says, hauling himself to his feet and wincing. The denim over his bandaged thigh is soaked crimson. “Way to chase her away.”

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