Why am I here? I thought as I tried to find a way to tell them what I was. I was a demon, and I was likely going to be pulled back into the ever-after in a few hours.

I was a demon, but they were my friends. I had to believe that they wouldn’t turn me away. My head hurt, and taking a slow breath, I looked up. “Jenks, could you clear out your kids?”

His wings increased in pitch, and Ivy winced. “Sure,” he said, his unease obvious as he made a series of three whistles. A smattering of complaints rose, and the room went silent as the children left. Jenks rubbed his wings together in a harsh discord, and three more darted out from under the sink and were gone.

My gaze dropped, and I pulled my knees up to my chin, grasping my shins awkwardly so my heels almost slipped off the chair. I wanted to be mad at Trent for everything, but this wasn’t his fault. I thought of my demon scar, and a bitter anger lifted through me. I’m a demon; I ought to just accept it.

But I wouldn’t. And I didn’t have to.

I looked up to fasten on Ivy’s stillness. Her face was empty of emotion, but her eyes were swimming. “I got out,” I said in a monotone. “Trent didn’t.”

The soft creak of the back door closing brought Ivy’s head around, and I looked to the hallway. Ceri was standing in the threshold, her filmy white dress edged in purple and green floating about her bare feet, and her hair wild. Tears marked her face, and she looked beautiful. “Rachel?” she warbled, guilt and fear heavy in her voice.

And with that, I realized that Ceri had known. She had known I was a demon, and that was why she hadn’t wanted me to go to the ever-after, lest I figure it out myself.

My face bunched up, and I held my knees tighter. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

She took three steps in and stopped. “Because you aren’t,” she said, pleading. “You are a witch, Rachel. Never forget it.”

It wasn’t her words but the vehemence she said them with that convinced me she’d rather believe a happy lie than a harsh truth. Damn it, she had known. I could almost pin the moment she’d realized it. She’d been treating me differently ever since Minias had pulled the focus from me and put it into David. No, it had started before that, with the scrying mirror.

My eyes must have given me away, for she strode across the room with a familiar righteous anger. “You are a witch!” she shouted, spots of color showing and her hair flaring out magnificently. “Close your mouth! You are a witch!”