Except it was her phone. It must be, because the photo on the home screen was of her and Teddy.
Beatrice’s grip tightened until her fingers turned white beneath their nail beds. She tried to study the image abstractly, the way she used to in art-history class.
She and Teddy seemed so happy in the picture. They were both laughing, their eyes bright. The photo was a selfie, spontaneous and carefree, which was surprising in itself because Beatrice never took selfies. The sky behind her and Teddy was an impossible blue, palm trees swaying in the background. Wherever this was, it wasn’t at the Washingtons’ beach house on the Virginia shore.
It was surreal, looking at a picture of herself that she didn’t remember taking. Again Beatrice felt like she was caught in a dream, maybe in someone else’s dream. The cool hospital air seemed to settle around her, lifting the hair on her arms.
Then her eyes snagged on the calendar app in the corner of her home screen, and she forgot all about the mystery photo. Today’s date was November 15.
The reality of it crashed over her then, in a way it hadn’t before—that she truly had lost nearly a year of her life.
Her fingers shook as she flicked open her contact list, ignoring the tiny blue bubbles alerting her to thousands of unread messages and emails. That could wait, all of it. Beatrice dialed a number, holding her breath.
She was immediately greeted by a three-tone alert. “We’re sorry,” a robotic voice informed her, “but the number you have dialed is disconnected or is no longer in service. Goodbye.”
Beatrice stared at her phone in disbelief. Connor had changed his number.
She longed to call her dad, but apparently that wasn’t possible either.
Finally, the threads of Beatrice’s self-control began to snap. She closed her eyes, let her head fall against the thin hospital pillow, and cried.
“Disguise is a powerful and recurring theme in Shakespeare’s works.” Professor Larsen paced the front of the lecture hall, twirling a piece of chalk in his hands. “In King Lear, for instance, there are noblemen posing as servants, and daughters who disguise their true intentions….”
Nina’s pen scribbled over the page as she summarized the professor’s thoughts about disguise. If only King’s College offered a class on that. She could use a lesson or two in hiding her intentions—the sort of thing that everyone at court seemed to do as easily as breathing.
Especially Daphne, who apparently had no qualms about marrying someone she didn’t even love. Someone who deserved so much better.
“Nina!” whispered the girl next to her, a fellow English major named Blair. She was one of the student producers of the show, along with Rachel.
Reluctantly, Nina paused her note-taking, and Blair brushed her bangs back from her face to lean closer. “So, you and the prince? Congratulations! Were you surprised?”
Nina stared at her, stunned. Had Blair heard about Jeff’s engagement and somehow thought that he was marrying Nina?
“You’re mistaken. There’s no news about me and the prince,” she whispered.
Was this how it would be for the rest of her life? People would recall that she’d dated Jeff and wonder if they were getting back together, or if Nina was crying jealous tears about his engagement, or forget the difference between Nina and Daphne altogether. Would she always be tied to him, even though they hadn’t been allowed to date publicly when they were actually together?
“Before we leave today’s class, I have an announcement,” the professor said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’ll be leading the spring study-abroad program at Oxford.”
The room buzzed with excitement; Professor Larsen held up a hand for silence.
“The program is open to ten students each semester. The admitted students will take classes at Oxford, and, more importantly, will each work on an independent study under the close supervision of an Oxford professor.” He smiled. “Applications are very competitive, as many of you know. There will be a reception and info session soon for those of you who’d like more information.”
Nina’s heart skipped. Of course she’d heard of the English department’s semester abroad: it was the most coveted program at King’s College, and impossible to get into. Most of the three hundred English majors her year would apply, and the school only accepted ten. She’d heard that if your GPA was below a 3.8, they wouldn’t even consider you.
Nina filed out of the lecture hall along with the rest of the class, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. It was one of those deceptively warm fall days that made everyone shed their coats and sprawl out in the sunshine. A group of students sat cross-legged on the steps of a fountain; farther ahead, an admissions tour was heading toward the chapel. Nina heard the student tour guide pointing out the statue of King Edward III. Back when she and Jeff were dating, she used to think that statue looked a bit like him. Now she resented it for reminding her of her ex.
Not that it was particularly easy to forget about Jeff. He and Daphne were currently on the cover of every magazine and website in the country.
Nina reached for her earbuds, ready to head back to her dorm and check on Sam, who was still staying with her. She’d come back from the hospital yesterday with big news—apparently Beatrice had woken up, but didn’t remember most of the past year. “Can I crash with you a few more days? Just until I clear things up with Jeff,” Sam had asked, her voice small.
“Of course,” Nina had replied, trying to ignore her mounting nervousness. The longer Sam stayed, the greater the risk of her being found out. Jayne and Rachel would never tell, but what if someone else caught sight of her?
Nina’s eyes drifted to a guy walking a few yards down the path—and her heart skipped. It was James. She couldn’t see his face, yet Nina knew it was him, with the sort of instinctive certainty that comes from having kissed someone.
“James!” she blurted out before she could think better of it.
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned, pausing so that she could catch up. “Nina. Hey.”
Her eyes drifted, unbidden, to his mouth. She didn’t even know his last name, yet she knew how his hands felt around her waist, how he tasted. It threw Nina’s mind into a tailspin of confusion.
“How’s your day going?” he asked as she fell into step alongside him.
“It’s good so far.” She hesitated, then added, “I just wanted to say, about the Tudor House party…I had to go help out my friend. That’s why I left without saying goodbye.” She squirmed, wishing he would interrupt and make this easier. “I didn’t want you to think that you’d scared me off.”
James shrugged. “I wasn’t worried. I get the sense you don’t scare easily.”