Her studio apartment was aggressively normal. White walls covered in cheap prints of abstract art—nothing that could remind her of enchanted forests or midnight gardens. IKEA furniture in bright yellows and blues that had no equivalent in the fae realm. Every lamp she owned stayed on until she left, keeping shadows at bay.
She rolled out of bed and pulled on her scrubs—navy blue, practical, forgettable. The community college's nursing program had been happy to accept her despite the gap in her transcripts. She'd told them family medical emergency. Close enough to true that the lie came easily.
Her reflection in the bathroom mirror looked functional. Concealer hiding the dark circles that had become permanent residents under her eyes. Her face thinner than it used to be, cheekbones sharp enough to cut. She'd dropped fifteen pounds in a month without trying. Food tasted like ash most days.
Her phone buzzed. Allegra.
Mom's making your favorite tonight. Come over after class?
Briar stared at the message. Her sister had been texting more lately, worried about Briar's sudden distance. Allegra was thriving—healthy, energetic, full of life. Everythingthe bargain had promised. Everything Briar had paid for with a price no one else remembered.
Can't tonight. Big test tomorrow.
The lie came automatically. There was no test, but she couldn't sit across from Allegra and pretend everything was fine. They thought she'd had some kind of breakdown and moved out. Let them think that. It was easier than the truth they'd never believe.
She packed her backpack with mechanical precision. Anatomy textbook. Laptop. Notebooks filled with meticulous notes she took to keep her hands busy and mind occupied. A protein bar she wouldn't eat. Her hand hovered over her keys, and she caught herself looking toward the corner where shadows pooled despite the aggressive lighting.
Nothing there. Never anything there. Just her broken mind playing tricks.
The walk to the bus stop was routine now. Seven minutes through suburban streets where normal people lived normal lives. A woman walked her dog. Kids played in a yard despite the cold. Everyone bundled in winter coats that were just fabric and insulation, nothing magical about them.
She told herself she took the bus because parking downtown was expensive and difficult, but the truth was simpler—she felt less alone. On the bus, strangers surrounded her without demanding anything. No questions about the shadows under her eyes or why her hands sometimes shook. Just bodies and noise and the mundane rhythm of stops and starts that let her exist without explaining herself.
Briar sat behind two girls from her program.
"Did you see Brady's Instagram from that party?"
"Oh my god, yes. He was so wasted."
"I heard he hooked up with Maria."
"No way! Isn't she dating—"
Briar pressed her forehead against the cold window, letting their chatter wash over her. Normal drama. Normal problems. She tried to remember caring about such things, but it felt like remembering a different person. Someone who hadn't been marked by thorns, hadn't watched light die in silver eyes, hadn't been kissed by someone who didn't know her.
Her hand rose to her throat, fingers searching for marks that were never there. She jerked it back down, but not before catching an elderly woman watching her with concern.
The community college's medical building was overcrowded and underfunded, fluorescent lights harsh enough to eliminate any shadows. She took her usual seat in the back corner of the lecture hall, opened her notebook to a fresh page, and tried to care about the circulatory system.
"The heart has four chambers," Professor Martinez began, pulling up a diagram. "Two atria, two ventricles. Blood flows in, blood flows out. The average heart beats 100,000 times per day."
Briar wrote it all down, every word, keeping her hands busy. But her mind drifted.
Did fae hearts work the same way? When Eliam had let her feel his heartbeat that night in the garden, it had seemed slower than human normal. When Arion died, had his heart stopped first, or did the light just fade all at once?
"Miss Washington?"
She jerked back to attention. The professor was looking at her expectantly. The entire class had turned to stare.
"I asked if you could explain the difference between oxygenated and deoxygenated blood flow."
"Right. Yes." She forced her brain to work. "Oxygenated blood flows from the lungs to the left atrium, then to the left ventricle, then out through the aorta to the body. Deoxygenated blood returns through the vena cava to the right atrium, then right ventricle, then to the lungs via the pulmonary artery."
"Correct." The professor moved on, but a few classmates still stared. She never volunteered answers, never joined study groups, never stayed after class. The ghost girl who knew all the material but never seemed present.
Three hours of pretending to care about things that didn't matter. Three hours of fighting not to think about what time it would be in the Forest Court. Whether Eliam had found someone else to occupy his bed. Whether he ever had strange dreams about a human woman he didn't remember.
By the time class ended, full dark had fallen. Winter came early and harsh this year, or maybe cold just felt different now. She waited for the bus with other students complaining about the exam next week, about their clinical rotations, about normal things that should matter.
