“What’d you guys do?” I said, unease growing.

“Nothing much, actually,” she said with an innocent smile. “We just sent a letter to the local news channel with a copy of the evidence we found. It took only two days for them to run a story. After that, he agreed to retire quietly.”

“He did? Was there an announcement?” I couldn’t believe I’d missed it, but then again, I was doing my best to avoid the Vipers and their operations.

“No, not to the whole school. The board probably didn’t want to draw more attention to it.”

I stared at her in awe, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. The power Elise possessed seemed limitless.

“Anyway,” she said now. “I heard from Evan that you were at dinner.” She sounded casual, but I could tell she cared, just not if she was angry.

“Yeah.”

“That must’ve been boring.” Stopping for a red light, she took a long drag from her cigarette.

“What?”

“Eating bland food and pretending to be someone else to impress Jack’s aunt and uncle.” She glanced at me for confirmation before the light turned green. “Bet you couldn’t wait to get away.”

“No, it was nice, actually,” I said, shaking my head. “It was really . . .” I searched for the right word. “Normal.”

She made a face. “Normal? Ugh.”

“I don’t know, I want that,” I said. “A family like that.” Even though Jack had shitty parents, he still had his aunt and uncle, family who loved him.

Elise pulled over into a gas station. “You have a family already—me. We’ll always be family, you and me.” I smiled faintly at the familiar words, often spoken by Elise like it was a promise. An unbreakable vow.

Elise wanted a remarkable life. She wanted to be remembered. Or maybe she was afraid of being forgotten. What she said about Melody, about how choosing to live a quiet life was the same as not existing. I had loved that. Take me with you, I’d cried.

But lately I wasn’t so sure. Maybe it wasn’t terrible, having a quiet life. Having a family you love that loves you back. Being happy. Maybe that would be enough.

“Don’t you ever get tired of feeling angry?” I asked her, genuinely curious.

“No,” she said firmly.

“Why not?” Just thinking about it was exhausting—maintaining the white-hot fury she carried with her.

“Because,” she said, lighting another cigarette and passing it to me, “the moment you let that anger go, you lose the drive to fight. You accept the shitty things that people do to you.” Anger was the source of her power. It was the source of all her strength.

And suddenly she didn’t seem all that strong anymore.

“Well, I’m exhausted,” I said. “And I’m too tired to fight.”

She looked at me, disappointment written all over her face. “That’s Jack talking, not you.”

I shook my head. “It’s not.”

“It’s like he’s brainwashing you,” she said.

“Come on,” I said with a laugh, even though I was starting to get annoyed. “No one’s brainwashing me.”