Cautiously, she peered down at the alley. The Bridegroom was there, just as he had been every day for the last two weeks. Three weeks? She couldn’t be sure. But Mercy was
there too, in a belted jacket patterned with cabbage roses, her black hair pulled into a ponytail, a guilty expression on her face.
Alex thought about just not doing anything. She didn’t know how Mercy had found
her, but she didn’t have to stay found. Eventually her roommate would get tired of waiting
for Alex to show and she’d leave. Or throw another rock through the window.
Mercy waved and another figure stepped into view, dressed in a purple crochet coat and
glittery mulberry-colored scarf.
Alex leaned her head against the window frame. “Shit.”
She pulled on a Lethe House sweatshirt to cover her filthy tank top and limped barefoot
down the stairs. Then she took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
“Baby!” her mom cried, lunging toward her.
Alex squinted against the spring sunshine and tried not to actually recoil. “Hi, Mom.
Don’t hug—”
Too late. Her mother was squeezing her and Alex hissed in pain.
“What’s wrong?” Mira asked, pulling back.
“Just dealing with an injury,” Alex said.
Mira bracketed Alex’s face with her hands, pushing the hair back, tears filling her eyes.
“Oh, baby. Oh, my little star. I was afraid this might happen.”
“I’m not using, Mom. I swear. I just got really, really sick.” Mira’s face was disbelieving. Otherwise, she looked good, better than she had in a long time. Her blond hair had fresh highlights; her skin was glowing. She looked like she’d put on weight. It’s because of me, Alex realized with a pang. All those years that she looked tired and too old for her age, she was worrying about me. But then her daughter had become a painter and gone to Yale. Magic.
Alex saw Mercy hovering near the alley wall. Snitch.
“Come on,” Alex said. “Come in.”
She was breaking Lethe House rules by allowing outsiders into the Hutch, but if Colin
Khatri could show Lance Gressang how to portal to Iceland, she could have her mother and her roommate in for tea.
She glanced at the Bridegroom. “Not you.”
He started moving toward her and she hurriedly closed the door.
“Not who?” said her mother.
“Nobody. Nothing.”
Climbing the stairs left Alex winded and dizzy, but she still had enough sense to be embarrassed when she opened the door to the Hutch and let them inside. She’d been too
out of it to realize just how bad her mess had gotten. Her discarded blankets were crumpled in a heap on the couch, and there were dirty dishes and containers of spoiled food everywhere. Now that she’d had a breath of fresh air, she could also tell the common
room stank like a cross between a swamp and a sick ward.
“Sorry,” said Alex. “It’s been … I haven’t been up to housekeeping.”
Mercy set to opening the windows, and Mira began picking up trash.
“Don’t do that,” said Alex, skin prickling with shame.
“I don’t know what else to do,” said Mira. “Sit down and let me help. You look like you’re going to fall over. Where’s the kitchen?”
“On the left,” Alex said, directing her to the cramped galley kitchen, which was just as
messy as the common room if not worse.
“Whose place is this?” asked Mercy, removing her coat.
“Darlington’s,” Alex said. It was true in a way. She lowered her voice. “How did you
know I was here?”
Mercy shifted uneasily. “I, uh … may have followed you here once or twice.”
“What?”
“You’re very mysterious, okay? And I was worried about you. You look like hell, by the way.”
“Well, I feel like hell.”
“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick. We didn’t know if you’d gone missing or what.”
“So you called my mom?”
Mercy threw up her hands. “Don’t expect me to be sorry. If I disappeared, I hope you’d
come looking.” Alex scowled, but Mercy just jabbed her shoulder with her finger. “You rescue me. I rescue you. That’s how this works.”