“Hi, yes. This is Professor Kane. I’m in the visitor parking lot… I’ve found someone who’s banned from campus.” Simone’s voice was professional. She wouldn’t look at Ramona. “Yes. I’ll wait here.”
She ended the call. Met Ramona’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Simone said quietly. “I really am. But you shouldn’t have come back.”
More headlights. A security vehicle pulling in.
“Zara,” Ramona whispered urgently. “Please. Take the grimoires. Stay close but stay hidden.”
“Ramona—”
“Please.”
The security vehicle parked. Two guards got out.
Zara opened her car door — the side facing away from the approaching guards and Simone, and then she stepped into the shadow cast by the car.
She dissolved.
She didn’t walk away, or run. She became shadow itself, her form dissipating into darkness like she’d never been solid at all.
Ramona’s eyes went wide. She’d never seen Zara do that before. Didn’t know she could do that. Through the tether, she could feel that Zara was still there. Still close. The connection held steady at about forty feet.
Unfortunately, the bag holding the grimoires did not dissolve with her. It stayed in the passenger seat.
Ramona forced her expression neutral, trying not to show her shock.
“Ma’am.” One of the guards had reached her door. “I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle.”
Ramona glanced toward the bag with the grimoires and shoved it to the floor, under the seat. Maybe they wouldn’t search her car when they towed it. She got out slowly. Her legs felt unsteady.
She could feel Zara nearby — somewhere in the shadows between the parking lights. Moving. Staying within range.
“Ramona Greenbriar?” The guard’s voice was clipped.
“Yes.”
“You’re aware you’re banned from Thornwood property?”
“Yes.”
“And you came here anyway.”
It wasn’t a question.
Simone stood nearby, arms wrapped around herself. She looked miserable. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
“This is a real dick move, Simone,” Ramona said. “You know I’m not some villain you have to get arrested.”
“I know you don’t see it that way,” Simone said, and she sounded tired rather than unkind. “You never did.” She held Ramona’s gaze for just a moment — not long enough to invite a response. “But I watched you try to hex someone I love infront of everyone we knew. So.” A small, exhausted lift of one shoulder. “I’m sorry it has to be like this.”
“Iwas supposed to be the one you loved, you asshole,” Ramona snapped. “You self-righteous?—”
“I hope you get the help you need,” Simone said in that perfectly patronizing tone she had always been so good at.
For two years, Ramona had thought about what had gone wrong with Simone. For two years, she’d blamed herself for being such a disaster that her own wife had strayed. But maybe the real story didn’t feature her at all. Maybe the woman before her had only thought of herself all along.
Through the tether, she felt Zara’s presence — flaring with anger, circling, staying close, keeping pace as the guards moved Ramona toward their vehicle.
