I snatched it up and ripped it open, holding the towel awkwardly in front of me so he couldn’t see any more of my goods.
Inside was a single card, thick and heavy.
Welcome to the Sphinx.
I read it a few times, not understanding it. “That doesn’t make sense,” I muttered. “I haven’t passed the third trial.”
The guy tilted his head, voice muffled through the mask. “Sometimes lifeisthe third trial, Adler. Good job on not taking the money.”
Before I could say another word, he turned and walked out.
I stared after him in shock, trying to connect all the threads, Jagger and Jace and Kenton and my dad.
Eventually I just gave up and I shrugged. I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s not like Kenton hadn’t been a fucking trial. And dealing with my father was just as bad.
It actually seemed fair.
I grinned, thinking the day hadn’t turned out so bad after all.
I’d just become a member of the Sphinx. If I played my cards right, that might be worth ten million dollars right there.
CHAPTER 35
OPHELIA
The afternoon was soft and golden, the kind of Tennessee winter day that pretended it wasn’t one—chilly enough for a jacket, bright enough to make you forget.
Matty’s hand was warm in mine, his thumb tracing lazy circles against my skin as we walked down the sidewalk toward the row of coffee shops near campus. The world felt…quiet. Safe. Perfect, actually.
He was saying something about the playoffs, about practice that morning, but I wasn’t really hearing it. I was too caught up in the easy way his voice rumbled, the way people glanced at him as we passed—smiles, double takes, whispers—and how he never noticed any of it. He just looked atme.
And then I froze.
The air around me seemed to disappear.
“Ophelia?” Matty’s voice was gentle at first, confused. “What is it?”
I couldn’t answer. My stomach had dropped straight through the pavement.
Coming toward us at a brisk, stiff pace were my parents.
My mother’s posture was perfect as ever, her beige coat immaculate, her lips already curled up like everything she wasseeing was shit. My father walked beside her, phone in hand, with the same distant half frown he wore whenever he wasn’t looking at numbers.
They hadn’t seen me yet.
But they would.
Matty followed my line of sight, his easy smile fading. “You know them?” he asked quietly.
I wanted the earth to just open up and swallow me whole.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My pulse roared in my ears. “They’re my parents,” I whispered right before my mother’s eyes locked on me.
Matty’s hand tightened around mine instinctively. I’d told him what my mother was demanding and of her threats to get me placed on medical leave.
He obviously hadn’t been happy about that.
“Ophelia.” My mother’s voice cut through the noise of passing students, steady and cold as ever. “We need to talk.”
