“I guess so. See you around, Ember.”
CHAPTER 38
IT WAS SEVERAL MINUTES after Chase disappeared over the top of the hill leading back to the school’s main building that I noticed the snow falling lightly around me. The first snow of the season was always my favorite. The cold without snow seemed pointless, but the gathering flakes coating everything in an even white blanket was beautiful.
My legs were heavy, weighed down by the rubble that once was my life, as I bounced from foot to foot trying to loosen my frozen muscles. I didn’t have anywhere to be. No use going home to my too-quiet house. Only a week ago, with a rare free moment to burn, I would have already texted Gideon and had a plan to spend some quality time doing absolutely nothing with my best friend. I felt his absence like a phantom limb, remembering what it was like to be whole when he was in my life.
After two miles at an easy pace, I couldn’t ignore the stitch in my side any longer. It wasn’t the workout leaving me short of breath. No matter how much I tried to focus on my breathing and the sound of my shoes slapping the track, my thoughts strayed back to Chase. I longed to talk to someone and release the pressure of my thoughts like a steam valve, but who was left? The flurries ebbed, leaving only the overcast gray sky as my companion.
The walk up the hill back to the school left my fatigued legs shaking and I stumbled to a secluded bench next to the theater wing’s entrance. Large bushes shrouded the cluster of cement blocks from view. During school hours it was usually occupied in a do-not-disturb kind of way. My stomach was still unsteady, and in case it turned inside out again, I’d rather not let anyone see me vomit.
Over the sound of my deep breaths, I heard the door to the theater wing open. Harsh, hushed voices were arguing, but the words were unintelligible from my spot. Curious, I crept to the edge of the bushes and peered out. Haley stormed past my hiding spot and halted, turning back to the girl she was with in a tornado of blond curls.
“I said don’t worry about it,” she snapped.
The girl behind her pulled up short, looking hurt at the sharp tone in Haley’s words. It was only then that I looked closely at her face, shaded by a baseball cap. It was Shauna, the Fire Alarm. She recovered her composure quickly. “Your pick doesn’t seem to be working out.”
“She’ll get there. It’s hard for a lot of newbies at the beginning, but she could be great. Let’s give her more time.”
The Fire Alarm did not look impressed by Haley’s reasoning. “It wasn’t hard for us.”
Haley rolled her eyes. “That’s hardly a ringing endorsement for us as decent human beings.”
“Since when do you care about being decent? This is supposed to be about stacking the deck in our favor. I’ve earned my place, and next year this is all supposed to be mine. You need to start thinking about your legacy as our leader.”
Leader? That would mean...
I mentally revised my tally of Red Court members to thirteen. It seemed Haley was pulling double duty.
“I told you not to worry. I’m handling it.”
The Fire Alarm huffed, seemingly resigned. “It’s my job to worry.”
“And it’s my job to make it work.”
So much for the girl from the carnival. Haley marched away from the school without a look back at her partner. Her real partner in all of this. The Fire Alarm stood silently for a few moments, her poker face firmly in place. Whatever she was feeling, I couldn’t read it. She left silently, but I could hear the echo of Haley’s words reverberating around us. It was her job to make the Red Court work. And what the Queen of Hearts says, goes.
* * *
“I thought I would know what to do once I found out who the Queen of Hearts was,” I said to April.
I’d ambushed my sister the moment she got home from her retreat, still glowing from the success of her event. Now, after I’d unloaded everything that had happened over the past few days, she was sitting on her bed with a notebook in hand to record the so far terrible ideas I’d brainstormed on how to destroy the Red Court.
It had been hard to talk about what happened to Mrs. Martin and Gigi, my fallout with Gideon, and everything with Chase. But the hardest thing was admitting how far I’d fallen into the Red Court, and how I’d foolishly thought by taking control I could change the nature of it. Layer by layer, I stripped all of it away, leaving me raw and ashamed.
April set the notebook aside. “You know I love you.”
“Oh no.” I put my hands up. My sister was notorious for delivering hard truths after those five words.
“Hear me out, please. I’ve supported your revenge plan even though I don’t agree with it. I never want to take your choices from you. I’ll never force your hand because I think it’s the right decision. It’s a lesson I learned the hard way. But I think you’ve been doing this for too long, pouring too much of yourself into it. I’m worried about you.”
I crawled onto the bed next to her and put my head on her shoulder. “Thank you for being here for me.”
“I’ll always be here for you. I just want you to know that you can walk away, even with everything that’s happened. I don’t want you to have to live with more regret than you have to.”
I almost laughed. My sister, in all her sincerity, couldn’t know how much I already regretted what I’d done. But if I could get rid of the Red Court, I could move on. Things would be better. For me. For everyone at Heller. I could do this.
I knew the players, and now I had to stack the odds in my favor. I needed to refocus all my energy into dismantling the Red Court like I should have from the very beginning. Instead, I’d let myself get swept away by the current of power that the Red Court ran on. The regret would fade if I succeeded. I knew it would.
When I didn’t respond, April moved on. She was giving me the space to make my own choices, no matter that she’d chose something different for me. “Are you upset that it’s Haley?” April’s tone was careful, questioning, and it felt like her keen eyes asked me the same question a thousand different ways.
“Yes.” There was no point in lying about what I so obviously couldn’t conceal, but I couldn’t admit the whole truth to April. “I’m upset that she was there, right in front of me, and I was too caught up in...other distractions to see it.”
April seemed to accept my answer, but the lie cost me. My sister was probably the last person who saw me, the whole truth of who I was, and had yet to turn away. Choosing to lie to her again was choosing to further the distance between us. But the truth was that I was angry with myself for not seeing Haley for what she was, and a small, naive part of my brain stung at her betrayal. She was my partner, and she’d kept her part in the Red Court a secret.