My heart skipped a beat as I stared at him. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m just telling you how it will be. The others are already wary of you being here. Don’t do anything to add to that.”

“Why did you even bring me here?” I yelled. “Because really, you don’t sound like you want me here.”

“Because your sister is gifted, and I have no desire to split her from you. I’m doing you a huge favor. There are places you could go to, Ember. Places—”

“You don’t have the right to do this!”

Mr. Cromwell slammed the palms of his hands on the edge of the table. He spoke through clenched teeth, and, like a mask slipping from his face, coldness filled his expression. “I have all the right, Ember. This is my town.”

Everything stopped as I stared at him.

“We have only your best intentions in mind. Nothing can be changed now.” Another perfect smile graced his lips. “We have already taken all the necessary steps to ensure your transition will be as smooth as possible. You will have the weekend to adjust and on Monday, you will start school.”

Just like that, I lost control of my life. Bile rose into the back of my throat.

“I expect that you understand I’m placing a lot of trust in you. Do not make me regret it. Even though I have no wish to separate you from your sister, if you give me reason to, I will.” He stood. “You’re excused.”

Chapter 5

Upstairs, I struggled to gain control over the heady mess of emotions I was feeling. I wanted to cry and scream. I wanted—I didn’t know what I wanted to do.

I stopped in front of the desk. My outdated, beat-up cell phone was plugged in next to the shiny laptop. I made a move for the phone, and stopped short. A brand-new set of charcoal pencils lay on top of my sketchpad, next to the phone. I cringed at the idea that someone had looked through it. My drawings were, well, private. No one would understand the dark twist everything took on when I sketched.

I guessed dying kind of warped my artistic flavor.

Unwillingly, my gaze fell back to my phone. I wanted to call Adam, but what would I tell him? I had no idea. So I took a shower, a really long, scalding hot shower. I washed my hair twice. Even after I’d scrubbed myself raw and ruddy-colored, I still had no idea what to tell Adam—or what to do.

Wrapped in a fluffy red robe that clashed horribly with my hair, I stood in front of the closet. Cautiously, I opened the doors… and then stared in open wonder while the girl in me squealed.

Mingled in with my old clothes were various shirts, dresses, jeans, and sweaters that I could never have afforded in a million and two years. Shoes and boots filled the closet floor, next to what appeared to be a new backpack—one that wasn’t as dirty and ragged as the one Dad had gotten me before the accident. I searched for it, but the one thing tying me to Dad was gone.