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I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to understand.

Once he’s recovered, I expect Drake to react to my attack, but he stews in silence. The silence that fills the pit is more unsettling than if he yelled at me. The quiet is breathless and full of anticipation, both of them waiting for me to crack.

The lump in my throat tells me I’m seconds away. I won’t. Can’t. Won’t. Will not.

Finally, Carver breaks the silence. “We can try again tomorrow.”

“The fuck we will,” I snarl, shooting to my feet and snatching my bag, racing toward the exit.

Drake beats me there, blocking the way. “Raina⁠—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I seethe, pressing into his space. “I don’t want to be a part of whatever fucked-up game you’re playing. Of whatever that illusion was.”

“What did you see?”

“You already know,” I snap, shoving his chest as heat floods my entire body. I’m so fucking mad.

Carver’s presence presses against my back.

I sidestep, putting them both in my direct line of sight, all too aware of how they watch me like a horse about to spook. Then they do the worst thing of all. They look at one another, and as I watch their silent conversation, I can practically see the pity.

I don’t stick around to hear whatever it is they’ll say next. I rush through the door and into the locker rooms, shutting myself in a changing stall. Back against the wall, I slide to the floor, digging my nails into my palms as those terrible screams reverberate in my head. All I can do is breathe and focus on the pain, waiting for the aftereffects of Drake’s illusioncraft to subside.

Part of me fears it never will.

The library is packed this evening. Ever, Bree, Eli, and I managed to snag an empty table near the back of the room. The sheer number of paranorms in the same room with me sets my teeth on edge, but with only bricks at my back, I can at least trust that it's protected.

My gaze skips to Melody, who is perched atop one of the thick tables, leaning on her hands, legs crossed, and practically beaming at the attention from the group of second-year Foundations that surrounds her.

“It’s disgusting, isn’t it?” Bree mutters, the privacy rune she cast on our table preventing anyone else from eavesdropping. “You know their heads would be shoved up her ass if they fawned over her any harder.”

A girl appears with a coffee in hand, raising the cup to her mouth but pausing when Melody snaps and holds up her palm. The girl hands it over without even blinking.

“I think some might already be up there,” I mumble.

“Ignore her. She likes the attention—jealous, adoring, disgusted—so long as it’s on her, you’re giving her what she wants.” Ever’s laptop clicks as she closes it. “I’m ready to go.”

“We’ve only been here half an hour,” I point out, gesturing to the stack of history books I’ll need for my paper.

“I do my best work at four in the morning before the assignment is due. I have what I need to power through it early tomorrow morning.”

I shake my head. “My brain can’t even comprehend how you do that.”

“It takes a special type of paranormal to procrastinate this well,” Ever says with a shrug.

Eli packs up his things. “I’m going too. I have a call with my boyfriend.”

“Aw, you two love each other,” Bree teases.

“We really do,” Eli gushes. “He sent me a care package the other day, and it had my favorite chocolates and a handwritten love note.”

That’s disgustingly cute. I don’t even know what I’d do with a love note, let alone affection from a guy. “Goddess, please never let me fall in love if it makes me sappy,” I say, lifting my gaze to the ceiling.

Bree snickers.

Eli rolls his eyes. “When you find love, you’ll understand. You’ll want to be sappy.”

I don’t know about that. Seeing as I can’t remember anything about my parents, I don’t have a good example of what love should look like. I guess the only thing I know is that it hurts to lose—because while I can’t remember much about my family, their absence is a giant hole in my heart. I grasp at my butterfly charm.