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“Murderers!” someone shouts. “Get them!”
The boys are still staring at me but they’re starting to stir, breaking through their shock.
“What the fuck?” Ashton mutters, brows pulling together. “What did you do, Mia?”
“She’s under the enchantment,” Sindri says. “I should have known.”
“And it’s not like we can deny any of it,” Emrys said, glancing around.
Jason says, “We should go. I don’t like this.”
The pages I copied are making the rounds. It’s out of my hands, quite literally. And I should feel elated, pleased. Have a sense of accomplishment. I found their weakness. Their dirty secrets. And exposed them for the whole school to see.
Then why do I feel this sense of dread building inside of me?
Maybe it’s because groups of students are advancing toward the boys, fists clenched. Some even hold stones and small knives.
“Murderers!” another student shouts and a rock flies, hitting Ashton on the shoulder. “Take them down!”
More rocks fly, one hitting Emrys on the arm. Jason goes down and the other three bend to help him back up.
I… This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I wanted to punish them. It’s happening.
Never meant to cause them pain.
It’s for Ophelia. I’m her avenger.
But they aren’t murderers. Not to blame.
My mind is torn in two directions. Pain rips through my head and I find myself on my knees, moaning. Bile rises in my throat and I throw up. It’s not enough to get the bitterness of fear out of me.
More students crowd around the boys—some are trying to protect them, I think. I can’t see the four of them anymore. I wipe my hand over my mouth and swallow hard. My heart is trying to pound its way out of my chest. I’m terrified, devastated. Above all confused.
Why aren’t I satisfied with a job well done?
Why do I feel like everything has fallen to ruin?
The crowd heaves, someone screams, and then I hear shouts about the Academy security coming in. I see them after endless moments, clearing a path through the partygoers to where we are standing while stones rain down.
What have I done?
What have I forgotten? Why is my head full of cobwebs and why does my heart feel like it’s cracked in two?
The security guards are here, shoving the students back to reach the four boys. They’re kneeling on the ground, I see now, faces pale and spattered with blood. My breath catches.
But before I can say anything or get to my feet, in the path cleared by the guards I see Ophelia and the Headmaster approaching together.
“There they are,” she says, a pleased smile on her face.
“I was told you found evidence that these young men have committed crimes?” The Headmaster is talking to me, I realize.
“I…” I finally make it to my feet, my eyes straying to where the guards are pulling the boys roughly to their feet. “No, wait—”
“The articles,” Ophelia says.
“Articles aren’t evidence,” the Headmaster says, “but I will read them. Take the boys away. Lock them up in the file room.”
“You can’t,” I whisper but nobody seems to be listening.
“And what about her?” The Headmaster turns to Ophelia. “Should we lock her up, too?”
“Oh no. She’s with me.” Ophelia winks and reaches out a hand to me. “Hello, cousin.”
