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The same people she had taught and helped whenever they needed her abandoned her when she needed them. I wanted to be happy and play along with her delusion, but this was real.

So real that my hands trembled and it took everything for me to not destroy something in that moment.

She frowned when I was silent.

Her sadness only made the tears begin to roll down my cheeks.

"Jewel," Alice’s soft voice whispered, and she pressed her hand on my shoulder, rubbing it soothingly.

"Did . . . I do something wrong? Why are you crying?" Mother asked, looking so innocent and confused.

She doesn't understand. She'll never get it. Doesn't matter what medication she takes. She only sees Gabriel and never me, Jewel.

I heard the door open, and footsteps enter the house.

"Jewel?" Logan's soft-spoken voice sounded, and I bit my lip.

From the whiff of the air, I knew his mother was with him by the sweet floral scent of perfume.

"Logan? Maybe you can talk to Gabriel. He's getting upset over the fact he got into Brighten Magic Academy! I had to use lots of connections to get him in and he's crying,” she huffed.

"Charlotte, that’s Jewel," Logan's mother whispered, her voice filled with remorse.

Mother frowned, looking at me then back at her friend.

"But . . . Gabriel—" she began.

I took a shaky breath, having enough of this.

"Gabriel's dead," I whispered under my breath but was loud enough for Mother and Alice to hear.

"Gabriel! Why would you say you’re dead? You're right here," Mother scolded, and I lifted my head to glare at her.

She froze while Alice's grip on my shoulder tightened.

"Jewel, wait,” Alice whispered, but I lost it.

"I'm not Gabriel! For the millionth time, Mom! Can't you for once see me for who I am? I'M JEWEL! Jewel Starfire! Why can't you see me?" I screamed.

Mother stared at me, sadness trickling in her expression.

"But . . . Gabriel . . ."

"GABRIEL IS DEAD! HE DIED! Killed at the same school you now want me to attend!" I shouted, throwing the invite on the table.

The room was dead silent, and I continued to glare at Mother, whose eyes pooled with tears.

I didn't care that I made her cry.

Didn't she see my tears?

My pain?

At least once every day, she reminded me of Gabriel, whether it was his hair color or the way she wished my eyes matched hers like his.

How was I supposed to move on from the ache he left behind if every single day I was reminded of his presence, forced to remember that my magic was too weak to be this so-called prodigy, and that everyone wanted to dictate what future I deserved.

I watched as the realization of her mistake settled into her expression and she tried to reach out to me.

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