Page 39 of Twisted Fate

My loud groan fills the small room as I delete the email.

“What’s up?” Allison asks, eyeing me from behind her textbook.

“I don’t have a mentor on Monday, which means I’m going to be stuck doing coffee runs for people who hate my guts.”

“Oh. I’m sure they don’t all hate you. Tristan hassomehumans working for him.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, that’s helpful, Al. Thanks.”

“Other than the shitty coworkers, how’s your placement going?”

I purse my lips. “Not as bad as I was expecting. Skylar can be a bitch, but she’s a surprisingly good teacher. And I think I’ve only seen Tristan a few times the whole month I’ve been there.”

Allison laughs. “Well, that’s good. Hopefully it will continue that way.” She says it with a nervous smile. We both know full well I’m not lucky enough for it to continue.

I head to Mapleville for the weekend to spend time with Adam and make sure everything is still okay, or at least as okay as it can be right now. We’ve been keeping in contact regularly over text and video chat when he’s up for it, but nothing beats being able to give him a real hug.

Dr. Collins is chatting with my parents when I walk into his hospital room. “Hello, Aurora.” She smiles. “I was just updating your parents on Adam’s treatment.”

“How’s it going?” I walk over to him and kiss the top of his head, and, wrapping my arm around his shoulders, I sit on the edge of his bed.

“Pretty good, I guess,” he grumbles. “Dr. Collins says the meds are working, so that’s cool.”

I smile. “Very cool.” I fight the urge to jump up and dance because this is the good news I’ve been hoping for since his cancer came back.

Dr. Collins checks Adam’s chart before saying goodbye to us. I watch her walk away, and my pulse spikes when she turns her head at the doorway, her eyes meeting mine for no more than a few seconds before she disappears down the hall. I work to shake the unsettled feeling in my stomach after she’s gone. This is getting ridiculous. Being so focused on the fae and the people I care about being in danger makes everyone a suspect. Anyone could be fae at this point, but I can’t let myself obsess over that when I’m here to support my family. This isn’t about the fae; it’s about Adam and his recovery.

Starbucks is a necessary pit stop on my way to the Westbrook Hotel Monday morning. I grab coffee for myself and Marisa. She’s been nothing but kind to me since my placement started, so I like to bring her little treats every week to express my thanks.

“Where’d you get that dress? You look amazing,” she says after I hand her a coffee.

I smile, glancing down at the knee-length, navy dress I’m wearing. “Thanks. Honestly, I can’t remember. A thrift store, maybe? I needed business attire for this placement and didn’t have a lot to spend, so I went hunting.”

“You hit the jackpot. Teach me your ways. I’m getting tired of the same variation of pantsuits every day.” She laughs and takes a sip of her coffee.

“For sure.” We exchange numbers so we can set up a day to go shopping together before I glance at the time and cringe. It’s a few minutes after nine. “I’d better get upstairs.”

“Have a good one, and thanks for the coffee.”

I muster a smile. “I’ll try my best.”

I’m almost halfway to the office when the elevator stops and a man and woman in business wear step on. After the door slides shut, the woman looks over at me, tossing her long, dark red hair over her shoulder. “I cannot believe Tristan let you live,” she seethes.

I should ignore her, but my lips move before I can press them together. “I can’t believe he puts up with people as ignorant as you. Welcome to thehumanworld. Wherehumanslive.”

Her lips twist into a cruel smile in the same moment the man pulls the emergency stop, halting the elevator.

Shit.

My free hand curls into a fist when they corner me, and my pulse skyrockets, fear raging through me as I assess the situation. I knew working here would have some hazards, but I was hoping an altercation like this wasn’t going to happen. I suppose I should’ve known better.

The man runs a hand through his black hair and flicks a glance at the woman. “I’m dying to taste her. You know nervous energy is my favorite, but ladies first.”

My mouth goes dry. This isnothappening.

The woman laughs. “She’s not so mouthy now.” She steps toward me, the tips of her high heels almost touching mine.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” I growl. I’m about two seconds away from throwing my coffee in her face.

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