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“There’s nothing to tell Zoey.” Brianna shoots me a look. “Zoey brought Ophelia back to punish you, you know that, right, Mia?”
I give a jerky nod.
“And I’d say it’s working out just fine. Besides, we’ve said all we had to say.” Her gaze is dismissive.
“Right.” I guess I deserved this for mostly ignoring her all this time, or she’s putting up a show for Zoey. Who knows? But before I turn to go, I blurt out, “What would you do if you found out that someone you like has committed a terrible crime?”
“I’d walk away,” she says bluntly.
“But what if there’s a mistake?”
“Buttercup, everyone wants to believe that about people they like.” Sympathy warms her gaze for a second. “But people don’t change, and a violent person will remain a violent person. It’s a fact of life.”
Nodding, I turn and go, because I know she’s right, and I know how I feel about these boys, and it’s all messing with my head.
Should I still try to help them? There has to be a solution somewhere. How do I get my hands back on the diary? Yeah, I know it’s not mine but what if it contains the answers we seek?
We.
Me and the guys.
How did we become so inextricably bound together?
No, this is all wrong. I have to confront them, lay my cards on the table, ask them in their faces about the articles. And act according to their answers.
But before I do anything, I see Ashton walking toward the administration building. Has someone come for him? Is his sister here? I’m torn between curiosity and relief. I see the other guys abandon their insouciant posing, too, and trail after him.
I can’t hide anymore as I hurry toward them. Sindri sees me and slows down, flashing me one of his rare, charmingly wild grins.
“Couldn’t see you anywhere,” he says when I approach, and guilt gnaws at my stomach like a horrible little rat with sharp teeth. When he catches my hand in his, I swear the newly forming ice in my heart melts.
How am I going to be objective when it comes to them?
After this visiting shindig is over, I’ll confront them, hash it out. Give them an ultimatum, demand they tell me the whole truth or… Or I’ll leave the Academy.
And die of a broken heart, but what other choice do I have?
That’s what it all comes down to. Choices. Vanessa said it. You have to make your choice and face the consequences.
So that’s the plan.
Lots of people are jammed in front of the registration office, and I see quite a few families staring about them wide-eyed, probably waiting for their offspring to be called.
“Isn’t all this a little too old-fashioned?” I ask.
“Have you seen the Academy?” Sindri chuckles, squeezing my hand. “Has it never seemed old-fashioned to you before? Even the canteen is called a refectory.”
“Well… Remember the bit where I grew up in a Church? Here it isn’t all that bad.”
He starts to say something, a frown pulling his brows together, but I don’t want to talk about the Church or my past now.
So I say, “And here is where they open a magical gate for the parents to cross into the Academy, I guess?”
The frown doesn’t ease. “You guess right. Mia—”
“Look. I think it’s Ashton’s sister!”
“Agatha,” he whispers, turning to look.
