Strange how Deryn sometimes wished she’d be unperceived by the world as well.
“Why can’t everyone just leave me alone?”
The words left her mouth as a cloud of vapor, dissipating in the cold, wintry air.
“You chose a fucking weird profession for that then, Der.”
And sometimes, Deryn wished she would remain unperceived by her own twin. Who knew better than to sneak up on her.
“Rude.”
Seren was wearing a hoodie two sizes too big, clearly hastily thrown on, its ratty edges hanging crookedly over her hips.
“Nah, just nosy.”
Deryn shook her head.
“No, you’re not. You’re under some kind of misguided impression that you are responsible for me. And so you ran out of wherever it was you were, Fire Chief Crowhart, to do what, exactly?”
“To save your ass in case you jumped into the water.”
Damn.
Trust fucking Seren to slap her in the face with the truth. Deryn turned away and started walking in the direction of the pier. Seren fell in step next to her.
“Also, Ceridwen might’ve said you went for a walk. So, this was a natural assumption.”
“Why is everyone in my private business?” Deryn threw her sister a sideways glare.
“You don’t have any business that is private.” Seren pulled out her vape pen and took a drag. Deryn made a face.
“I am quitting cigarettes, you asshat. This is helping.” Seren took another, much deeper drag as if to spite Deryn. “And yes, tell me exactly which business of yours is private? You’re all over theCaw. Front-page news. But then, you never left that front page when you lived on the island either.”
This was an old conversation, often rehashed, no matter how many times they tried to resolve it. Seren resentful, Deryn angry. At the end of the day, each remained exactly where they stood. One still resentful, and the other still just as angry.
They walked in silence for another ten minutes until they reached the Ferry Pier. In the dusk, it looked eerie, all shadows and secrets. It was empty, the fishermen having packed their wares and the last ferry having left long ago.
“You know I don’t want to be all over theCaw, Ren. Just because I’m on TV shouldn’t make me a readily available target for gossip.”
Seren sighed and took out an actual, honest-to-Goddess pack of cigarettes. She wordlessly handed one to Deryn, then looked at her expectantly. Deryn blinked, tilted her head, then laughed.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that? The fire chief doesn’t carry a lighter?”
She extended her fingertips and touched the tips of both cigarettes. Seren took a long drag and walked all the way to the very edge of the pier, the toes of her boots sticking past the old wooden boards. Deryn eyed her warily but followed along.
“I don’t carry a lighter ’cause I’ll want to use it.” When Deryn opened her mouth to interrupt, pointing at the pocket that held the pack, Seren made a face. “Whatever. It’s necessary on occasion.”
“This is your occasion?”
Deryn finally took a drag herself, the smoke burning her tongue, but she let it, refusing to cough in front of her sister.
“I’ve been wanting to smoke since the Atelier fire. Since you returned to the island. Since the whole thing with Rhiannon.”
“Damn, Ren, you’ve been hankering for nicotine that long?”
“Shut up.” Seren gave her the finger, but there was no malice in her tone. “Nothing is resolved, you know. Not a single thing. Who the fuck burned Rhiannon’s place? Who the fuck broke into Ceri’s shop?”
Deryn lowered the cigarette and stared.
