The guard was talking into his radio. Calling someone. The Magical Council? Exactly how much trouble was she about to be in?
Stay hidden, Ramona thought down the tether.Stay safe.
And from the shadows: Zara’s fierce determination.
I will. And then I’m coming back for you.
“Ma’am, you’re going to need to come with us,” the guard said.
Ramona nodded. She watched Simone begin to walk away, then out of nowhere she tripped on nothing more than a shadow, her bag flying to the ground as she cursed aloud. As they led her toward the security vehicle, she felt Zara’s amusement.
The tether hummed between them. Steady. Unbroken.
Close enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ramona had imagined a jail cell.Cold metal bars, a hard bench, the kind of stark institutional space reserved for actual criminals.
Instead, she was sitting in the saddest office she’d ever seen.
It wasn’t even a proper security office. Just a converted storage room with a desk, two chairs, and a filing cabinet that looked older than the building itself. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The room smelled damp, and the wallpaper was peeling in one corner. Someone had taped a motivational poster to the wall — a doodled cat hanging awkwardly from a branch with the captionHang In There, Dumbass!
The guard who’d brought her in — his name tag readStevens— sat at the desk doing paperwork. Actual paper paperwork. With a pen that kept skipping.
He’d taken her bag. Her phone. Eleanor’s key.
“Someone will be here soon,” he’d said. “Just… sit tight.”
That had been twenty minutes ago.
Ramona sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair and tried not to think about what “someone” meant. Campus administration? The Council? The police?
Through the tether, she felt Zara nearby. Not in the building — that would be too risky. But close. Probably somewhere in the shadows just outside the window, staying within the sixty-six-foot range, keeping the connection stable.
Waiting.
Guard Stevens sighed, crossed something out on his form, started over.
The door opened.
Ramona looked up, expecting… she didn’t know. Campus security supervisor? Dean of Students? The Magical Council themselves?
Instead, Eleanor Greenbriar walked in. Perfectly composed despite the midnight hour, wearing slacks and a cashmere cardigan like she’d been expecting this call. Her face was carefully expressionless.
Behind her: Iris.
Ramona’s stomach dropped. She’d have rather faced the Council.
Iris looked tired. Worried. Her usual confidence replaced with something that looked almost like guilt.
“Thank you for your help.” Eleanor’s eyes flicked down to Stevens’s badge.
“Who the fuck are you?” Stevens asked, and Ramona couldn’t help but admire his bold ignorance in that moment.
“Eleanor Greenbriar,” her mother said, her eyes going glassy with anger. “We’ll be taking my daughter home now.”
“Mrs. Greenbriar.” Guard Stevens stood immediately.
