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She would fight like a lioness for me.
I can’t let that happen. The Fae’s warning not to make him wait replays in my head, and I know I’m making the right choice.
Aunt Zinnia will be hurt, but she’ll live. That’s more than can be said for me.
6
I cross the peeling linoleum floor and inspect the neverapples. According to the few articles I could find before our internet crapped out, one bite of the golden fruit has more vitamins than a serving of spinach.
More importantly, they replenish themselves. You eat the apple, set the core on the windowsill at night, and in the morning it’s good as new.
Magic is so cool.
One apple a day, plus anything Jane can find from the traps I have set up around the land, and they might be okay. Upstairs is a scribbled list of instructions on everything they’ll need to know when I’m gone.
I hope it’s enough. It has to be.
The back screen door slams shut as Aunt Violet reappears, the tinny smell of smoke clinging to her. The furrows trenched across her weathered forehead have softened, and she quietly makes herself some sweet tea, her spoon tinkling against the glass. quo;s easier to tune out the newscasters from the other side as they speak of the newest bill that’s supposed to help those in the Tainted Zone.
Yeah, right.
There’s also a huge concert for our benefit. All the biggest celebrities and Fae have gotten together to raise money that will undoubtedly end up in the Millers’ pockets. Sometimes I feel like we’re the most forgotten place on earth.
“And where did the cat come from again?” Aunt Zinnia asks. Luckily she’s too busy overbaking her cornbread to notice I’m wearing long-sleeves in the middle of summer, or that I keep rubbing my tattooed arm.
I shrug. “He just sort of showed up?”
“Well, can he just sort of go away?”
“Shh,” I scold. “He can hear you. Besides, look how friendly and adorable he is.”
Aunt Zinnia throws a dubious glance over her shoulder at Chatty Cat, who’s made himself right at home on the kitchen island and is busy hissing at any kid who gets close. “I might be able to explain him to Vi, but”—she nods her head at the neverapples—“those will need more of an explanation. Where did you find them anyway?”
“Can’t we just say they came from the same place the fresh eggs and milk needed for that cornbread came from?” I ask hopefully, eyeing the basket of large brown eggs on the table.
Any hope that Cal didn’t know who the blonde thief was evaporated the moment I got home and discovered the wheelbarrow on the front porch. Cal personally delivered everything I stole to our house, plus a few extras.
For a block-headed idiot, his sense of irony is razor-sharp.
“Summer, you know the Miller boy would never trade in . . . well, whatever those are.” She waves a hand at the neverapples, piled high in an old bucket near the sink.
“Right,” I scoff. “Cal and his family have no problem stealing the pallets of aid sent from the other side and then selling them on the black market, but handling goods from Everwilde are way beyond their moral code.”
More like, they have to keep up appearances. The Fae have grown popular in the big cities outside the borderlands. And why not? They have the money, magic, and influence to hire huge PR firms and throw lavish benefits for us: the humans caught in a no-man’s land they swear is still tainted by magic.
While we’re unable to leave this little slice of hell on earth, the Fae have influenced their way into every echelon of society on the other side. But here, where we see their evil up close and feel the sting of their crimes, they’re reviled.
“So, did Cal say anything when he delivered all this?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
Aunt Zinnia tugs at the fuzzy strings of her robe. “Only that you would know how to repay him.”
The thought turns my stomach. Owing Cal is nearly as bad as being bound to the Evermore. At least once I’m there, I’ll be out of Cal’s reach.
Cal Miller has had a crush on me since ninth grade. He’s a walking, muscled-up cliché. The high school quarterback, prom king, and eldest son to the wealthiest family in town, he’s had everything in life handed to him.
Everything but me.
I had no idea he liked me. Not until he shoved his tongue down my throat after gym class.
