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“That will be all, Miss Worthy.” With one last long look at me, he walks by, exiting through a door at the back of the room.
A weight lifts off the atmosphere the moment he’s gone.
Or maybe it’s my chest that was feeling crushed. Now I can breathe again.
“Well.” Miss Worthy is still staring at the door through which he went. “Well.”
She doesn’t seem able to find any words.
Neither do I.
Who vouched for me and paid my fees? My mind instantly goes to Ashton, but why would he do that?
Why would anyone?
2
MIA
The clothes Zoey gave me are gone.
That’s the first thing I notice when I return to my room and drop my bag on the floor. Like, what in the world? When did she have time to come take them? My trip to the reception office can’t have lasted more than half an hour.
Then I also notice that my mirror is cracked and there’s one word written in red lipstick on it:‘SLUT.’
Nice.
My sheets are smeared with lipstick, one of them torn, and on my window, they wrote in big capital letters:MIA IS A TRASHBAG AND A SKANK.
It makes me shiver. The thought of Zoey and her bitch band lurking outside my room to witness my humiliation, waiting for me to leave so they could sneak inside and wreak havoc on what had been my sanctuary for a while chills my blood.
I stand in front of the cracked mirror and attempt to erase the word with my sleeve. It only smears the red over the glass, making it look like blood.
Giving up on that, I touch my cheek, over the bruises left there by her buddies. Trail my hand down to my neck and my mark.
“Black wings,”Miss Worthy had said.
Squinting, I lean closer to see. Personally, I’ve always thought my mark looked like a moth or a butterfly. Like an insect crawling on my skin. And I hated it.
Still do. It’s part of the reason why this mess happened in the first place. I doubt Miss Worthy would have believed I’m a witch without it. Of course, it’s a mistake. The mark justlookslike whatever the actual Apollinari mark is.
Could this be why Father and Mother adopted me? Did they think the mark was a sign?
Stop it, I tell myself.This sounds like a conspiracy. Father and Mother wanted a child, that’s all, and I happened to be an orphan left on their doorstep. Deal made.
I mean… I don’t have magic. Not me. I think of Sindri’s mirror and the image it showed me, of a crying little girl. That had been just a fluke, right?
Lifting my hand, I point at my cracked mirror. “Abracadabra,” I intone with as much seriousness as I can muster. “Show me the future.”
Unsurprisingly, nothing happens. No puff of smoke, no swirling colors, no nothing.
Yeah. Like I said. Not me.
And as for my adoptive parents, well… This branch of the Apollinari must be without magic. It doesn’t make sense otherwise. Maybe they used to have powerful members in the past, but not anymore.
If I’d known, I’d never mentioned the name.
That’s done now, though, and somehow… I’m still at the Academy. That’s great, right? I get to move on with my plans of revenge. But I feel so tired right now. I let myself fall back on the bed, arms and legs spread like a starfish, and stare up at the ceiling.
