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“What?”

He raises his eyebrows. “You wanted to know who she is, yeah? She’s no one. At least, not someone who matters.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means,” he grits out, “that she’s the staff. Or at least her mother is. And her father.” When Lucas keeps frowning, Reign continues, “You see the food they’re all stuffing their faces with? I hear that her mother’s quite the chef. And her father’s very handy with the lawnmower.”

Lucas stares at him before coming back to me for a second. “O-kay. I —”

“So you understand what I’m saying to you?” He gestures with his chin. “She’s a little servant girl. You’re mixing with the wrong crowd. The right crowd is over there. Come on.”

For a few seconds after that, there’s silence.

No one says anything, not Reign, not Lucas and definitely not me.

I couldn’t. Even if I wanted to.

Because enough’s already been said, I guess. By Reign.

Who I very weirdly notice stands in such a way that we make a triangle, him and me and Lucas. I’m not sure why I’m noticing that. What a strange thing to notice in a moment like this, but nevertheless I do.

I notice.

The distance. The shape.

The fact that he still won’t look at me.

But Lucas does. I feel the moment his eyes swivel over and land on me. My cheeks burn when I notice the pity in them. “I’m… Fuck, I’m so sorry. I —”

His words get interrupted again when Reign turns back and begins walking away.

Widening the distance. Ruining the triangle.

And all I can do is stand here and watch him leave.

Unable to process what just happened.

CHAPTERTHREE

Who: The Bubblegum

Where: The second-floor bedroom in the carriage house on the Davidson estate

When: 1:15AM; five years ago, one day after Echo’s thirteenth birthday

Dear Holly,

He lives here now.

Or rather, he’s going to live here now.

At the manor.

Not only that, he’s also going to go to my school as well, Bardstown High West.

I don’t know what’s more shocking, him coming back to live in Bardstown from Connecticut or that he’s going to go to a public school like mine rather than a posh private school like most of the rich kids go to.

But apparently, from what I hear, this is a punishment for him.


Tags: Saffron A. Kent St. Mary's Rebels Romance