Brittany sits in the chair in front of her desk. I ditch my sneakers by the door and lean against the edge of her bed. She’s taken the one chair in the room, so that’s my only option.

“I’m not going to, like, beat around the bush,” Brittany says, crossing her legs. She starts picking at her cuticles in her lap. “I know I haven’t exactly been nice to you,” she says. “So you don’t owe me anything. But I wanted to ask you not tell anybody what you saw.”

I frown. So she’s not denying what happened anymore. And she’s being relatively polite. Unexpected. “Did he ask you to do this?”

“He’s not talking to me.” Her forehead wrinkles up. “I think he feels guilty.”

“He should.”

“I pushed myself on him. He doesn’t even want me. He just thinks I’m . . .” She waves a hand vaguely in the air. “Some kid.”

Because you are a kid. I almost say it, but I bite my tongue. If I want to convince her to come forward with me, I need her on my side. “But isn’t it weird that you guys spent so much time alone together?” I say, trying to sound as kind as possible. “I mean, why were you in a car alone with him?”

“He was going to give me a ride home because my car was at the shop,” she says. “That’s it. It wasn’t anything weird. He did that for you too.”

“But—”

“I was hoping he saw me differently, because I’m eighteen now,” she says over me. She leans forward in her chair, not looking at me. “It’s sad, isn’t it? Being in love with your teacher?”

I don’t say anything. I can’t believe that she’s really in love with him, that he didn’t manipulate her emotions.

“You probably think I’m pathetic,” she says, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder. “Sure. Whatever. It’s just . . . he was always so nice to me. Like, he thought I was good the way I was.” A wistful look crosses her face. “He was the one who encouraged me to try for the scholarship.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic,” I say quietly, because my heart is breaking. She really believes what she’s saying. Listening to her talk, I could almost be convinced that he really wanted the best for her. But I have my own experiences with him. He made me feel like I needed him to be successful, even when he was being awful. I can only imagine how brainwashed you would be after three years of him manipulating you.

“Have you ever shared magic with someone you loved?” she asks. “Someone not in your family?”

I’m so shocked by this turn in the conversation that I choke a little. “No. No.”