“I said I could do it, and I failed,” Ivy said. Her shoulders were bare, and her motions were fast and jerky as she roughly put her T-shirt back on.

I stood, scrambling to figure out what was going on. I shouldn’t have taken her shopping; I should have gotten her drunk. “You didn’t fail. God, Ivy, sure, you lost it, but you caught it again. Don’t you even remember what happened?”

Her back was to me as she returned the lacy chemise to its hanger, and I retreated when she came out. It had been…fantastic. But it isn’t going to happen again.

She must have seen it in my face. Ivy stood stock-still before me with the lace top on a hanger, perfectly arranged and ready for the next person. “Then why are you ashamed of me?” she said softly, her fingers shaking.

“I’m not!”

Silent, she pushed past me to hang the shirt where she’d found it with a sharp clink and headed for the door.

“Ivy, wait.” I started after her, ignoring the idiot of a clerk cheerfully telling us to come back for the big sale tomorrow. The spell checker at the entryway made a blip at my complexion charm, but no one stopped me. Ivy was already a store down. Her hair was shimmering in the sun coming through the skylights, and I jogged to catch up. Typical Ivy, running away from the emotional stuff. Not this time.

“Ivy, stop,” I said as I caught up. “What the Turn gave you that idea? I’m not ashamed of you. God, I’m thrilled at the control you found. Did you not see how much better you did?” Not that it makes any difference in my decision.

Head down, she slowed and halted. People flowed around us, but we were alone. I waited until she looked up, and the pain in her eyes was almost scary. “You’re hiding your bites,” she said in a low voice. “You’ve never done that before. Never. It was…” She sank down on the bench beside us and looked at the floor. “Why else would you hide my mark, unless you’re ashamed of me? I said I could handle it, and I couldn’t. You trusted me, and I failed.”