I don’t feel any of that here with Mariah and Patricia. Alice is my safe space, my home, and that would never change. But it’s been months since I’ve held space with only Black women and it’s not just safe, it’s… a release.

Lying to them right now feels like the straw that will break my back. And I can’t afford for my back to break. Not now.

“I don’t believe my mother’s death was an accident,” I begin, and their eyes grow wide. “Last week I recovered a… memory. The night she died, one of their casters—a Merlin—erased my and my father’s memories at the hospital, and I don’t know why. I believe the Order may have killed her, that something happened while she was enrolled here that made her a target. I’ve become one of their initiates to find out the truth, but I’m not with them. I’m against them.”

In the moment of silence after I finish, the wind picks up Patricia’s scarf and Mariah’s and my curls. It says something about the Order’s reputation that neither one of them denies my suspicion, or even questions it. The same emotion passes over both of their expressions, too quick for me to name.

It’s Patricia who speaks first. “And do you have proof?”

“I have Ruth’s memories of something that happened on campus when my mother was here. If I pass their Trials, I gain a title in their world, and they’ll trust me. I can ask more questions, get answers, and then I’ll get proof.”

“You seek revenge?”

My eyelids flutter. That specific word had never fallen from my mouth. But it didn’t need to, did it? It’s always been there, in a way. Revenge, retaliation, justice. But even those words aren’t enough, a small voice whispers. They don’t feel deep enough. Big enough.

What did I say to Nick? Punish them for what they did. “Punish” feels better. Punish feels… right.

“Bree? Is that what you want?”

“I want to find who’s responsible”—the words come fast, from the quiet thoughts I’ve buried deep—“use my root abilities, the title I’ll gain, and the contacts I have to bring to justice anyone who was involved.”

Patricia regards me closely. “You said you can resist their hypnosis?”

“Yes, if I want to.” Patricia and Mariah exchange a worried glance. “What is it?”

Patricia’s frown lines deepen. “What else can you do, Bree?”

I tell her everything. How it’s not just the Sight or the mesmer resistance. How I can smell castings. How I can feel Sel’s gaze on my skin. And last, I tell them about the red mage flames.

Mariah’s jaw has long since dropped, but the mage flames bit must have tipped her over. “Holy shit.”