Bitter pulled her covers tighter around herself, her face pressed close to the wall. “Fine,” she lied. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Miss Virtue, even though she knew the woman—the angel? the fallen angel?—was on her side. Miss Virtue’s true form was seared into Bitter’s brain, breathing gray stone, a resurrected sculpture with eight wings and eyes at the tip of each. How much about the principal had been a lie? Had she meant the things she’d told Bitter over the years?
“Aloe’s here,” Miss Virtue said.
Bitter sat up so fast that it made her head spin, all concerns about Miss Virtue shoved to the side. “What? When did he come back?”
Miss Virtue hid a smile and smoothed her hands over her suit. Her nails were blood red against the dark mossy green. “Last night. He’s out in the hall, but he’s not sure if you want to see him.”
Bitter tried to ignore how ferociously her heart was pounding in her chest and the way her whole being tugged toward the door now that she knew Aloe was on the other side of it. “He thinks ah vex with him?”
Miss Virtue raised an eyebrow. “Well, from what he told me, it sounds like you were a bit vexed that he left.”
Bitter hung her head. “I was being petty. He deserved to take some time for himself. I just—I eh wanna lose him how I lose Eddie.”
“Sometimes we have to trust that the ones we love will find their way back to us,” Miss Virtue replied.
Bitter glanced over at her. The air between them had changed ever since Miss Virtue split into stone. “What happens now?” Bitter asked in a low voice. “With the school?” She’d been wondering this for days, ever since she learned the truth about Eucalyptus, but she’d been too scared to go looking for the answer. She and the others had fulfilled their function by closing the gates—did that mean the school would shut down?
Miss Virtue smiled. “Eucalyptus will be here as long as there are students who need it,” she answered. “Until the humans have made Lucille into a place where a school like this isn’t needed anymore.”
Bitter scoffed. “How long that go take?”
“As long as it takes, little gate.” Miss Virtue touched Bitter’s chin affectionately, and to Bitter’s surprise, the contact didn’t make her flinch. “You made a good call, you and Ube, about keeping what really happened under wraps. The world is never ready for the real angels. And now your children will grow up in a Lucille you won’t even recognize.”
Bitter searched the principal’s eyes, not sure what she was looking for. “It won’t be the same here,” she said. “At the school. Even if you try not to change it.”
Miss Virtue tilted her head. “It shouldn’t be the same. I made the choices I made to keep you in the dark, but we can all make different choices.” She gave another smile, this one tinged with sadness. “I broke your trust, Bitter. And the trust of the other students. I will spend as long as it takes to rebuild it.”
Bitter nodded, a knot in her chest loosening up a bit. She knew what it was like to keep a secret that was so big, no one would have believed it without seeing it themselves. She could understand why the principal had hidden her wings and stone from them, but everything was still raw and scary and starting over.
“I just want to be safe.” She tried to stop her fear from leaking into her voice, but it made it through anyway, lacing her words with the shadow of a tremble.
“Oh, Bitter. You are always safe here.” Miss Virtue held out her arms, and Bitter fought back tears as she hugged the fallen angel for the first time. Miss Virtue felt solid, almost unnaturally so, like the stone of her being was translating into the flesh, but her embrace was warm and sure. “I will stay with Eucalyptus,” she said, her voice washing like an ocean of promise into Bitter’s ear. “I have always known that you kids were worth a forever, but now it’s time for me to prove that I can be a forever for you.”
Bitter’s voice was muffled. “Wait, yuh immortal?”
Miss Virtue laughed. “Human forevers are shorter, Bitter. There will come a time when you won’t need me anymore.”
Bitter took a deep breath, her face pressed against the shoulder of Miss Virtue’s moss suit. “And then you’ll leave?”
“And then I will leave, little gate, like everyone else must. But that is many, many years from now.” Miss Virtue pulled away and wiped the tears off Bitter’s face. “You were very brave to send Vengeance back. I am so proud of you. Just … no more blood, okay?”
Bitter laughed through a sniffle. “No more secrets, then.”
“Deal.” Miss Virtue stood up, her suit still somehow uncreased and immaculate. “Make sure you go down for dinner tonight. The chef refuses to continue your room delivery. He says he misses your face.”
Bitter nodded and watched as the principal left, then stared at the doorway with an unsteady chest until Aloe’s frame filled the blank space. His eyes crinkled when he saw her, love and relief glowing like everlasting embers in his face. “Hey, Bitter,” he said.
She teared up at the sound of his voice. “Hey,” she said back, her voice unsteady.
Aloe was a shade darker than when he’d left, his skin smoothed out by the sun. “Can I come cuddle with you?”
Bitter nodded, words too thick for her tongue. Aloe nudged off his shoes, then took off his jacket and climbed into the bed with her. She let out a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He smelled like lemons and outside. “I’m sorry I had to leave,” he whispered. “I wasn’t abandoning you.”
“I know. Sorry I gave you a hard time. I was scared you wouldn’t come back.”
Aloe kissed the top of her head. “I’ll always come back for you, Bitter. We in this together.”
For a moment, she thought about the things he’d said at the safe house, about leaving Eucalyptus and doing something else. But just as quickly, Bitter decided it didn’t matter where he went. She could feel her love for him as clearly as if it was setting her heart on fire. If he wanted to change schools, then fine. There was a world outside Eucalyptus’s walls, and she had already survived the worst of it. All Bitter wanted was the exact same thing she had wanted before—peace and quiet. Her friends around her. Aloe’s smile in her mornings. The only difference was that she now knew precisely how high the price of that was, how the costs could be bled out of you.
“You doh have to stay at Eucalyptus for me,” she told him. “I want you to do what makes you happy, even if that means going somewhere else.” Bitter looked down at his face, his patient and gentle eyes, his gorgeous mouth. “I want to take care of you, Aloe. I want to give you somewhere safe and soft to rest, just like you does do for me.”
Aloe leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m not going anywhere. I decided to stay.”
Bitter blinked in confusion and frowned, hesitant to believe what he was saying. “Yuh sure? Yuh not just saying that for me?”
Aloe rolled his eyes. “Babe, I’m sure.”
Joy spilled in Bitter’s chest like paint, seeping into all the crevices and leaking out of her smile. “How come?” she asked, because she had to be certain.