CHAPTER TWELVE
ZADE
The leather of the steering wheel
feelscold beneath my palms.
Usually, I like the cold.
It's consistent.
It matches the rest of my life.
But today, the silence of the car feels crowded.
My head is stuck on that redhead.
The Witch.
I can still see her from yesterday—shivering in that trash-bag hoodie, holding
onto Mio like she was the only anchor
in a storm.
It makes my blood turn to battery acid when I see others treating Mio like she's some kind of alien.
They don't understand the weight of a person.
I was seven when my mother lost the baby.
She was seven months along.
I had already picked out the toys.
I had already promised the ceiling of my bedroom that I would be the best big brother in the world.
Then, the house went silent.
The nursery was locked.
I was left with the ghost of a sister I
never got to protect.
Mio isn't her.
But she's been there for the past six years.
I first saw her when she was in middle school, getting bullied for her looks.
When I approached her back then, she flinched, expecting another blow.
Instead, I beat the shit out of every
student in that circle.
Since then, she's been persistent.
She hides behind me when
she's faced with a problem,
and while I like being her shield,
I know she needs to learn to stand on her own.
I catch her near the fountain before the first bell.
She's alone, staring at her shoes like they have the answers to the universe.
I walk up, not slowing my pace, and drop a small, gold-wrapped box into her hands.
"Eat something that isn't cafeteria junk, Mio," I mutter.
She jumps, clutching the Belgian chocolates to her chest.
Mrs. Maura at the mansion knows they're her favorite.
I like it when she eats; it's one of the few things that makes her look truly alive.
"Zade! You... thank you. You didn't have to," she breathes.
"Don't make a scene,"
I say, my voice dropping an octave.
"And for fuck's sake, stay away from Marcus and the Witch if it's going to get you in trouble."
I turn to leave, but her voice stops me.
"Who is the Witch, Zade? Are we playing cosplay?"
She almost trips over her own feet.
She's always loved the idea of dressing up, of being someone else—that's just what makes her her.
"The redhead, Mio. The one you were stuck with yesterday."
"Oh... you mean Alice? Right..."
She's already peeling back the gold foil, popping a chocolate into her mouth.
So, Alice is the name of the Witch.
No wonder she's delusional enough to think this place is a wonderland.
And I am more than happy to shatter her delusion....
"Whatever her name is, she's zero business of mine. It's you who keeps sticking to everyone. Try not to be such a busybody," I say.
I start to walk away again, but she grabs my sleeve and fumbles with her backpack.
She pulls out a container, thrusting it toward me.
"I made okonomiyaki this morning. I brought some for you since you usually eat it like a starved beast."
I stare at the container.
It's one of the only dishes I can actually finish.
Usually, eating feels like a chore, a mechanical necessity that makes me want to throw up half the time.
But this... I actually want this.
"I do not eat like a beast,"
I say, but she's already skipped away, disappearing into the crowd.
I head back to the car to drop off the food before marching toward the lecture hall.
Just as I reach the doors, I'm slammed from behind.
Hard.
"Sorry about being late, mate!"
Nate's voice grates on my nerves.
I contemplate breaking his nose right here on the marble steps.
"Drop the habit of sudden body contact, Nate, or you'll lose your sense of smell permanently," I growl.
"Ouch. You bruised my little heart, Zade."
Nate's usual dramatics feel a bit slack today, his energy off.
I'm about to ask what the hell happened to him, but the words die in my throat.
I look down the hallway.
The Witch is there.
She's wearing the crest of Oakhaven today, the Oxblood blazer fitted perfectly to her frame.
She looks sharp. She looks like she belongs.
And for some reason, that is fucking unsettling.