The Grays unwind the strings from their fingers, letting their blood return to its normal flow. Silence brushes over the scene, and the only sound left is the soft drum of Imogen’s feet, dragging her around the faerie ring.

The Grays gather near Danny, curled on her side. They help her up to sitting, and she looks confused that they are bothering with her when Imogen is right there. But she’s not there, really. Imogen’s eyes are still as misted over as sea glass.

Whatever happened to her is bigger than Haven’s betrayal.

Haven and Imogen: Two Weeks Ago

That night in the woods, with the Grays so close, only the body of a redwood kept Haven and Imogen concealed. Haven went up on tiptoes, chanted into Imogen’s ear. “Make them scared. Make them wish they hadn’t come out here. Make them want to take it all back, run screaming out of the woods.” Haven’s mouth went dry. She stole glances around the side of the tree, watching the Grays.

Imogen flickered into her body for a second, looking down at Haven through a fog of confusion, which quickly burned off. “What are you doing, Hav?” She’d always been afraid her sister would snap. That’s why she’d tried to brew a little recklessness in Haven, but the more Imogen tried to help her, the harder Haven recoiled.

And Imogen couldn’t stop her from snapping now, because a second later, Imogen was gone again.

But her magic wasn’t.

A storm stamped all over the grove where the Grays were meeting. It didn’t hurt them. But the wind grew way past what Haven had imagined, and Haven didn’t whisper for Imogen to stop it. She didn’t want to stop it. Once Haven got started, once she broke those tight tight bonds inside her, she couldn’t force everything back into place.

The next day at school, she heard about Sebastian. About the widowmaker. She learned she was a murderer from some junior who flung gossip around like it was free candy.

Haven told herself that she was safe. They couldn’t trace the storm back to her. It was an accident, anyway. A mistake. She would never use Imogen’s magic again. Haven didn’t want to play this game anymore.

Danny: Now

You came back,” I say. I can believe the Grays are here, but maybe I don’t quite believe that I’m here. Like if I blink hard enough, this might turn out to be a really nice hallucination right before I die, smothered by dirt.

“Lelia found Haven’s footprints in the woods,” Hawthorn says, standing in front of the little rise in the earth that covers Haven thoroughly. It looks like a lump caught in someone’s throat.