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14
“You spoke to mymom?” My voice screeches so high, some of the other diners turn away from their pancakes to stare disapprovingly at us. Still, it’s pretty much the last thing I expected to hear.
“Arthur did.” Braxton lifts his chin and narrows his gaze in the self-satisfied way of a boxer who just delivered the knockout punch. “She signed the papers. Your copy’s inside.”
He nudges the envelope back toward me, but no way am I going anywhere near it.
“Mr. Blackstone knows what it’s like to come from humble beginnings, and so he started the academy to help other kids who are facing similar challenges. Natasha, you’re bright, sharp, witty, pretty, and most importantly, you’re not afraid to take a few risks. Arthur recognizes your potential and wants to help you live up to whatever dream you have for yourself. Your current problems will disappear. The past will be erased, as though it never existed. The only thing required is your attendance.”
Sharp, witty, pretty, and most importantly, you’re not afraid to take a few risks. It reminds me of how Elodie once chose to describe me, but I’m not sure I’d agree.
Risk-taking involves careful, calculated thinking.
My life choices would best be described as impulsive, self-defeating, and wildly reckless.
Still, what I say is, “If this wolf school is so great, then why go to all the trouble of drugging me and framing me so I’ll agree?”
Braxton doesn’t even flinch when he says, “First of all, if we had approached you with an offer, chances are you would’ve said no. You don’t really strike me as the type to willingly choose a path that’ll benefit you. And second, no one drugged you. Can we move past that already?”
“Maybe I didn’t drink,” I say. “But I know for a fact I didn’t faint.Somethinghappened at Arcana. Something you’re purposely keeping from me. And what I really want to know is what’s Elodie’s part in all this?” I study Braxton’s face, haunted by a vague recollection of him saying Elodie was right about me seconds before I blacked out. He also called medarling, but I’d rather not think about that. “Whether you admit it or not, I know you two are working together.”
Braxton fidgets with the gold signet ring on his middle finger. And, since it’s the second time he’s done that when I veered too close to the truth, it’s all the proof I need to know I’m on the right track.
When he finally looks at me, he says, “Thing is, Natasha, from the moment you agreed to ditch school, you were a willing participant. Way I see it, you’re not really in a position to turn down an offer like this.”
When he ends with a shrug, it’s all I can do not to toss whatever’s left of my coffee at his ridiculously handsome, smug face.
“Look—” I lean toward him. “I don’t know who you are or why you’ve decided to go after me, but I do know this whole thing disappears if I can find a way to prove I was framed. And Iwillprove it.”
Braxton leans back, idly stretching his arm across the vinyl banquette. “If you ask me,” he says, “your life was a mess way before you were busted for theft.” His gaze lights on mine, and just like that, the tenuous balance of power shifts yet again.
Clearly, he’s right. But I’m also right about him and Elodie plotting against me. My proof: he didn’t so much as blink, much less try to deny it.
“Does it really matter how you arrived when I’m offering you the chance of a lifetime? Natasha, this is the moment you get to decide between death or rebirth. The choice is entirely yours.”
Choice.
It reminds me of how he found me laughing at my own tombstone. The clothes, the club, the tarot card, the drink, all of it was leading me here.
And now that I’m here, I guess it can’t hurt to at least take a look at whatever it is that he’s offering.
I mean, it’s not like my life can get any worse.
I tear into the envelope to find an official-looking document tucked inside. But, since it’s written in the sort of language only law school grads understand, I skip ahead to where my mom’s signature hugs the very last line.
A sob builds in my chest as I trace the tight loops with my finger. The hollow feel of her arms, her look of despair as she said,I’d hoped for better, replays on an infinite loop in my head.
Maybe this is my chance to do better for her.
Or at least give her one less thing to worry about.
But still…can I really leave her?
I mean, who’ll take care of her if I’m not around?
“I have a job,” I say, but Braxton’s already shaking his head.
“Not anymore.”
