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His smile faded. “Never.”

“And…Mom?”

He thought about what he should say, and settled with, “She hasn’t changed.”

The half-smile that ghosted across MJ’s mouth was filled with sadness. “I didn’t think so.”

They’d always hoped she would—secretly and quietly hoped their mother would turn things around one day. Get clean.Improve her life and relationship with her children. He’d lost all hope of that the day he’d walked into her pig-stye of a home in that trailer park and found out, from his mother’s own mouth, that she’d sold Maya in exchange for money. Money that she’d spent on booze and drugs.

He wouldn’t tell his sister that, though. Not now. Not today.

The click of a door opening had him sitting up straight and looking toward the hallway. Toward the room Dallas was in.

Slow footsteps on the floor.

And then Dallas appeared, Raina and Charlotte flanking her. The minute Dallas’s amber eyes met Max’s, she smiled and spun around carefully, showing him her wingless back.

When she stopped spinning, her smile faltered. “How do I look?” She was back to her old self, and yet better, somehow. She looked lighter, and Max knew it had nothing to do with the weight of her wings and everything to do with her controlling parents.

Today, she had shed herself of more than just her wings.

Max smiled. “Like you,” he told her.

Dallas smiled back.

93

Oceana

ANGELTHENE, STATE OF WITHEREDGE

The heavy rainfallturned the world beyond the windows of Darien’s car into a blurry watercolor painting.

In the district of Oceana, where they were parked out front of the townhouse that belonged to Erasmus and Helia Sophronia, Loren tried her best to sit still. But Roark was late. And as far as her other parents went, there was no sign of them, either.

She didn’t realize how cold she was until Darien cranked the heat and angled the vents so they were facing her. “Thank you,” she said, pressing her stiff, shaking fingers against the vents. They felt like icicles.

“Do you want my jacket?” He was already reaching for the zipper, ready to strip it off for her. All he had on underneath was a black t-shirt.

He’d get soaked as soon as they stepped outside, so she told him, “I’m fine.”

But Darien looked concerned. “If you decide you want it, don’t hesitate to tell me. And don’t worry about me being cold. Deal?”

She nodded. “Deal.”

Another fifteen minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Roark. She was growing increasingly anxious. Was he not coming?

Darien opened his door, a rush of fresh, rainy air sweeping through the car and teasing the dark locks of his hair. “Let’s go try the door, baby,” he said.

She followed him out, up the wet and puddled front steps, the rain dampening her hair. She stood right beside Darien beneath the shelter of the overhang, remembering back to the last time they were here together, as he rapped a tattooed fist against the front door. Once. Twice. Three times.

No answer.

Tires splashed through puddles on the road. Loren squinted over her shoulder and saw a white sports car pulling up behind Darien’s.

It was Roark.

The driver’s door swung open. He stepped out, popping an umbrella.