She might have long legs and blunt teeth right now. She might be wearing a cute dress. But Asha could never really pass for a teen girl, not to anyone bothering to pay attention. She was an otherworldly princess whose rhinestone flower clips sat on her head as regally as any crown, and her destiny, one she hadn’t asked for, was calling.

It was probably just the guilt from Nitya’s accusation clinging to her like dream residue, but Tanvi gave in. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Did you pack your lozenges? The doors are locked to outsiders.”

“What kind of runner do you think I am?” Tanvi checked again for any prying eyes, then downed a lozenge from her pouch. “Aren’t you going to glamour me?”

“I did not think to bring my vermilion.” The barest trace of embarrassment showed on Asha’s face before she perked up again. “I suppose we will simply have to chance it. How fun!”

“For you, maybe,” Tanvi muttered. Side by side, they slipped into the building.

Inside, they passed an awards display case and electronic signs announcing the day’s agenda and made a right turn into a corridor full of army-green lockers. The air smelled like harsh cleaners, and the fluorescent lighting sent forks of pain through Tanvi’s eyeballs.

Worse, the knowledge of her missing memories wouldn’t leave her alone. It was her brain trying to fill in the gaps and failing no matter how many times she ordered it to stop.

You left us. The Tanvi I knew never would have let us suffer like that.

The bell rang, spooking her, and students poured out of classrooms. A boy with fluffy curls and a violin case gestured wildly to a girl in a yellow headband.

Tanvi felt like she’d swallowed a pinecone. The girl with the headband. The one who’d first confused Tanvi for Nitya that night and put this whole horrible thing in motion.

Just a couple of hours ago, Tanvi had wanted nothing more than to find that girl and ask about the mix-up. Now she only wanted to flee.

That girl being here meant Nitya was here. Hadn’t Sameer said something about going to school with her?

If only Tanvi had a lozenge that would let her melt through the floor.

“Hey, Nitya,” the boy said to her. “Hitesh was looking for you earlier. You should text him.”

Tanvi strained, her mind blinking on and off again, but couldn’t come up with anything better than, “Uh, thanks.”

Asha struck a pose. “Hello! I am Asha, Nitya’s cousin.”

The boy looked too awed to answer, but the girl with the headband introduced herself as Mai. Meanwhile, other people were crowding around them: friends of Nitya’s, from how they kept greeting Tanvi.