“If I’d known what breaking into that room—” I start, but she shakes her head firmly.
“You were right, Katie. Don’t doubt yourself. If we’d let Sophia and Oaklyn get a hold of bio magic, they would have killed or tortured us already.”
I nod. Yes, the alternative is worse, but it’s hard to believe we did the right thing when a five-year prison sentence is looming over me.
“This is my fault,” she says furiously. “I shouldn’t have let you return to Vancouver.”
“No! How were you supposed to know?” It hurts even more that she’s blaming herself.
Sky rushes over, pushing through the dispersing crowd. “Nat. We need Dad.”
Natalie and I turn to her, both of us struggling for breath.
“Listen.” Sky puts a hand on each of our shoulders, her grip steady. “We need a Tracker’s help, and Dad is one of the only witches who can catch a chimera. He’s good at it. We’ll find him, and he’ll help us.”
Natalie stares at her, her gaze slowly focusing. She nods. “Sky’s right. We have a fighting chance once we find Dad, okay? Katie?” She hooks a finger under my chin and angles my face toward hers.
I want to believe her. I’ve faced impossible odds before, and I did what was necessary to save myself and protect magic.
I have a choice: I can give up, or I can trust Natalie and Sky, who are staying at my side. Running isn’t an option—not when Sophia and Oaklyn Madsen have their dad, and not when finding him might be my only shot at freedom.
Fear coils around my throat like a boa constrictor, but I force myself to nod.
It’s an infinitesimal hope, but it’s going to have to be enough. After all, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about the Zacharias family, it’s that they never back down from a fight.
And honestly, neither do I.
From the Journal of Hazel Okada
Like hell am I going to let these witches ruin my best friend’s life. They’re not fooling me—this isn’t about justice. Katie was born with this intuition that none of them have, and they resent her for it. Classic case of punishing someone for being an outlier. It’s been a familiar sight since middle school, when bullies went after kids who were different. When they went after me for being smart. Fuck that.
I’ve been flitting around my apartment for hours, making everything perfect for Katie’s arrival. Bed made up, fairy lights strung along the bedroom walls, luggage stacked neatly. Stew bubbles in her slow cooker, filling the place with a homey scent, and fluffy towels are ready in the bathroom. Natalie stopped by with flowers for Katie and to see if I needed help with anything, which made my chest ache with a familiar emptiness I’ve been trying to ignore.
Now, with nothing to do but wait, I’m on the couch with Ethel warming my lap, watching the street below for any sign of Natalie’s car.
According to Natalie, Katie can only stay here temporarily until they figure out somewhere safer. Apparently, some people called the Madsens want to kill her—a detail she conveniently glossed over earlier. At this point, I should probably assume everyone in Vancouver is trying to murder my friend.
But I refuse to sit by helplessly. Katie has always been there for me, from midnight phone calls after a breakup to last-minute presentation help. It’s my turn to step up. My chimera map wasn’t enough to convince those stuck-up witches that Katie did theright thing, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be helpful. We’ll have to come up with a plan.
There’s no other option. I can’t imagine life without her. Last term, while we were apart, I went through all the motions—made friends, formed a study group, even dated Sean—but there was always this Katie-shaped hole in my life. If we fail, how am I supposed to go on knowing she’s locked away in some magical prison?
Sometimes I can’t help thinking how much easier this would be if I were a witch too. I could fight alongside Natalie instead of sitting here with my laptop. Being a normie among witches is painfully frustrating—always on the outside, always needing things explained.
But there’s nothing I can do about that.
Maybe what Katie and I both need is honesty—about magic and everything else. If she’s staying here tonight, it’s time to have a heart-to-heart and talk about this huge thing that’s been weighing on me. I have to trust her the way she’s always trusted me. To be brave and true to myself the same way she is now. Best friends tell each other everything, right?
And really, if anyone would understand what it’s like to discover something about yourself that changes your world, it’s her. In more ways than one.
The truth is, I figured out why I’ve been dreading dating again. It’s not the actual dating part that makes me recoil. It’s…who I would be dating. More and more, I’ve been imagining what it would be like to kiss plush lips, to touch a smooth face with no scratchy stubble, to run my fingers through silky hair…to press my body against soft curves…
It’s so obvious when I think back over the last few years. The way I couldn’t stop blushing around Meghan in high school afterI found out she was bi. My obsession with lady pirates. The way I got a little too into spin-the-bottle at the Halloween party last term. The fluttering in my gut when that pretty TA leaned over to type on my keyboard and her perfume hit my nose.
Ugh, painfully obvious, Hazel!
I want to try dating women. I want the kissing, the cuddling, and maybe more when I’m feeling brave. I want an emotional connection that goes deeper than friendship.
There. I admitted it.
