It’ll be painted white by morning.
“So if you’re here… I guess that means it’s over?” she asks, tone hitching.
I slowly pull the hiking bag off my shoulder and perch on the edge of her couch. My bottom sinks into an overly plush cushion. An image flashes—intrusive, unwelcome—of Sawyer here, his naked thighs damp with sweat while my sister fucks him.
“It’s over,” I confirm, eyes drawing to my hands as they fidget. I flatten my palms on my thigh and straighten my spine. “Mr. Hansley has been taken to the mines.”
“Mmm.” Zephyr nods as she sits across from me, the white leather of her chair creaking as she crosses one slender leg over the other. Her fingers interlace over her knee without the softest hint of a tremor. “You must be relieved.”
“This was my mission. I could’ve stopped it at any time.”
Her lips crease with an upward pull that may be an attempted smile. “Right. Well... Are you satisfied? Have you learned all there is to know about your new pet?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
She raises a brow, but it’s her chest that I watch. It’s stopped moving. “Oh?”
“It’s interesting.” My fingers drum against my thigh. “He was given one task, yet spent no more than a few hours a day with me… I’d venture to guess you could say more than I could about the man.”
“Me?”
“You.”
Her eyes pop with a laugh and she shifts in her chair. “I mean, I met him. We talked a few times. I believe you directed us to doeverything in our powerto make him feel at home?”
“I didn’t tell you tofuckhim, Zephyr.”
“Fuckhim?” She scrunches up her nose. “Did he say we…?” She blinks, shakes her head. “Luna, that’s disgusting. He’s like fifteen years older than me. I showed him the compound. Once or twice, I brought him food that was technically contraband, so if you want to accuse me of that, fine. But you’re the only person here obsessed with the trafficker.”
A second of silence passes while I stare, the fingers drumming my thigh curling into a loose fist. Zephyr squirms as two more seconds pass, each longer than the last.
“I mean, forgive me,Your Grace, but I’ve seen your wall of horrors. You’reconsumedby this. He probably picked up on your little—ornot so little—crush and told you … whatever he told you, just to make you crazy. Please don’t let it work. Please don’t let him win.”
I reach into the front pocket of the hiking bag to retrieve the bracelet I took off Sawyer. Zephyr’s expression falls as I lay it on the table between us.
“You were taunting me.”
She scoffs. “I make those foreveryone.”
I raise my wrists. “Where’s mine?”
“You?” She laughs. “You don’t wear jewelry.”
“Stop.”
Her eyes roll. “Luna, come on. You cannot?—”
“Stop,” I repeat, my voice more forceful. “Please, just stop.”
Resting her hands on her thighs, she turns her head. No guilt crosses her expression, though I look for it. I look for any sign of loyalty, oflovefor me.
There’s none.
“You know you’re a minute and a half older than me,” Zephyr says, the words sharp with resentment. “That means I’ve spent the entirety of my life in your shadow.” She turns to me, lips pinched. “You havealwaysbeen Father’s favorite. It must kill you to believe someone wants me more.”
I laugh. Though not a single word is funny.
“You betrayed me for the favor of an old, irrelevant man. Is that what you want me to believe?”
