Chapter 13 · The Face in the Mirror

"You alright? You're blocking the door."

Ivy moved before the admission card slipped from her hand. Six loops. Six times through these doors. This time, there was no blood on her palms, no ash from the core—only the paper and the copper taste burning the back of her throat.

Leon stood three feet away, fixing his cuffs as if he hadn't knelt beside her in the shattered barrier four minutes earlier. As if he hadn't burned his family crest to keep her alive.

He didn't remember.

"Miss Kline?" Professor Thorne waited beside the ceremony doors, clipboard tucked against his chest. His smile stopped short of his eyes. "You'll want to take your seat. We begin in ten minutes."

Last loop, she had trusted that smile. Followed his directions straight into Selina's death.

"I'm fine," Ivy said.

"You don't look fine."

"Then stop looking."

Thorne's smile tightened. "Third row. Left side."

She walked past him before he could say another word.

The hall glowed amber around velvet rows and polished pillars. Her name waited on a brass placard. Ivy sat, then glanced over her shoulder.

Leon took a seat four rows back.