Georgie turns away and heads into the common room. I follow her as she makes kissy noises calling for Bast. The cat, who’s lounging on the couch, completely ignores her, but Georgie picks her up and nuzzles her face into her blue fur, smearing the painted emblems on her cheeks. Bast puts up with the affection for very little time, then contorts her body out of Georgie’s arms and dashes off.

“Georgie, I never meant to hurt you. No one here gets me like you do.”

She snorts. “It’s nice pretending we ‘get each other,’ Ada.” Her tone is hurtful, but when I see she’s clearly holding back tears, my annoyance melts away. “We may both be from the same place, but you’re a Sire. Everyone respects that. You have no idea how long it took for me to get to a point where I’m tolerated—barely. At least it’s better now than it was.” She turns her face away. She’s replaced Bast with a couch pillow, and she’s clutching it to herself, curled up small on the couch. “Even the people who are nice—they see me as a stranger. I’m not at the bonfire tonight because without Hypatia and with you busy with team things, I don’t have any other friends. When you arrived… There’s a reason your room was available. None of them wanted to live with me—they don’t know how to act around me.”

“Georgie, I get it. I do.”

“No, you don’t. You’ve had one foot out the door since you got here. This is supposed to be my home. For the rest of my life. And I will never fit in. When I do occasionally manage to blend in, I sometimes wish I hadn’t, because I hear the way they talk about people from the provincial world. Like they’re less-than, like they should be feared.” She runs out of steam.

She’s right. I haven’t been here for nearly as long as her, and just today I was feeling like I truly belong. Finally I say, “I… I didn’t think…” But Georgie’s top lip is trembling, and I feel so horrible for hurting her that I’m not quite sure how to go on. What I’m supposed to say is that I’m sorry. And I am. I’m the one in the wrong here.

She’s looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to find my words. I would have stormed off and slammed the door in my face by now.

I take a deep breath. I can fix this.

But the sound of knocking interrupts us.

“Hello?” Rafe’s voice emanates through the door like a premonition of doom.

“I’m so sorry,” I say to Georgie, ignoring the way my heart begins to race at the sound of his voice. “I’ll make him go away.”