“Then they can see me and Delaney together,” Poppy said. “It’ll be good for our show. We’re co-starring opposite each other, you know.”
Poppy and Delaney’s luxurious world of fame was alien to Sophia. In the North Side, celebrity was obtained through fear, not adoration. And as she’d suspected, stepping into the ritzy lounge as Poppy dragged her through the revolving door, she once again stuck out like a bloodstain on white linen.
Like a Torren.
She liked her clothes—she always had. But maybe she was performing, too. For all the sleeping she’d done, it wasn’t the rest she craved. It was the moment of waking, that blissful haze when the past few months hadn’t happened.
Sometimes, it was that Jac was still alive. That he was lying beside her, fine.
Others, it was that she’d never met Jac. That she’d never burned Luckluster Casino. That Sophia, who was missing an essential piece of herself, still had a family to define her. To make her almost whole.
She clung to those moments every time she dressed. The boots and the lipstick made her feel like the girl she’d always been, but now it all felt useless. What did it matter? She was no one anymore.
At least Poppy got her wish. No sooner were they seated in a corner booth did Sophia jolt from the flash of a nearby camera. Poppy and Delaney expertly ignored it and ordered lemonades—Poppy wasn’t in the mood to drink, and Delaney didn’t like the taste of liquor. The server didn’t ask Sophia her order and merely brought out the same.
“What I don’t understand is the body parts,” Poppy whispered. “What could the Bargainer want with them? I feel nauseous just thinking about it.”
“She must be sick,” Delaney said. “Just like Rebecca is sick.”
“What do you mean?” asked Sophia.
“As a shade-maker, you’re not supposed to cast shades on yourself. Like how an orb-maker transfers volts into glass rather than putting them straight into their skin. Shade-making and orb-making aren’t regular talents. They’ll keep changing the energy. They’ll corrupt it. It’s why you have to first use metal or glass,” Delaney explained. “It’s how Rebecca got sick. And the Bargainer keeps the talents and whatever anyone gives up for herself. She has to be casting the shades directly on herself. I...I probably should have considered it before.”
“So the Bargainer is dying, too?” Sophia asked.
“She might not bedying,” Delaney answered. “There are talents for healing. She clearly has one, judging from what that woman told us about her sick daughter. I can’t imagine the talent would cure her, though. It would just constantly heal her.”
“If that’s true,” Sophia said, “then Bryce must’ve realized it. And if the Bargainer can’t even cure herself, how can she cure Rebecca?”
“Oh, I’m sure she still can,” replied Delaney. “Some powers don’t work well on yourself. It doesn’t mean Bryce won’t get what he wants.”
“We were supposed to find a way to kill her,” Poppy said grimly. “Just because she’s sick doesn’t mean shewilldie. Or evencandie. We still don’t know.”
“I guess not, but we did learn something,” Delaney pointed out. “The Bargainer casts the shades on herself, which means, if she does die, those shades will be broken.”
“You mean, if she dies, I could get my split talent and memories back?” Sophia asked, sitting up. She’d always thought she’d need to make another bargain for them.
“You might. It’s definitely possible.”
The thought filled Sophia with hope, and she hated herself for it. What about the woman who had bargained for her daughter’s health? What would happen to her?
My happy ending is someone else’s tragedy,Sophia thought numbly.
It was dangerous to think this way, her father had once told her. A conscience was the enemy of a Torren. Guilt could twist her luck, and Sophia had always been the soft one of her siblings. The weak one. It was why Jac had killed Charles, and not her.
Every wrong she did would return to her. And killing the Bargainer? The Bargainer had touched so many lives, for better and for worse. Sophia would help some people—she’d give the financier his talent back, others their health back. But she’d be damning people, too. The suffering would outweigh the good, both in the world and in her own heart.
If your luck falls too low, you’ll die, her father warned. Even his voice in her mind sounded distant—she remembered him so little.I’ve seen it happen. It’s why I’ve raised you the way I have. You have to be stronger than that. Because if it happens, the only person you’ll have to blame is yourself.
The server returned with their trio of lemonades, dragging Sophia away from her morbid thoughts.
“Can I ask you something?” Poppy asked Sophia. Sophia’s gaze flickered to Poppy’s hands, and she was surprised to find Poppy had removed her cursed ring.
“I guess,” Sophia said, sipping the sweet drink.
“Why did you give your split talent to the Bargainer?”
Sophia nearly choked. The question shouldn’t have surprised her, but it still felt strange for others to know the secret that she’d kept so close for years. She hadn’t told anyone until Jac.
