Page 4 of Lucifer's Mirror

Josh giggles. “She’s not your girl, she’s your sister.”

I don’t argue. Zayne is a complete ass to most people, but for some reason, he took a liking to me. We’re the same age but he always treats me like I’m this fragile little thing in need of protection. Which I’m not. Though maybe I was back then when we first met. I was lost and scared and pretty pathetic.

And while I would never have chosen Pete and Lissa as surrogate parents, I’m glad I came here because it gave me Zayne. I love him—like a brother. Somehow, my story followed me here. And kids can be horrible to anyone they deem different. High school would have been a nightmare if it hadn’t been for Zayne. He made it clear to everyone that if they picked on me, they’d have to deal with him. And he’s scary as shit with a wicked temper. Even I can see that, though he’s never shown me that side of him.

I never had anyone—well, not anyone I can remember—look out for me before.

He peers at me in the dim light. “What’s wrong with your face?”

“It got in the way of some flying glass.”

He takes the tissue from me and examines the wound. “You’ll live.” That’s what I like about Zayne; he looks out for me, but he doesn’t mollycoddle me. “So what have you been up to, Princess?”

That’s where Josh got the idea. Zayne calls me Princess when he’s pissed at me. And he’s been pissed off since I got my exam results and accepted a place at a college in London. A long way from here.

I dig another chocolate bar out of my bag and hand it to him. I know the men in my life. “Eight-hour shift,” I answer, wiggling my toes. “My feet hurt.”

“You work too hard.”

“And you don’t work enough.” I don’t know what Zayne gets up to, but I’m betting that it’s no good. He always seems to have money, but I have no idea where it comes from. I worry he’s mixing with some dodgy characters.

“You should come to London with me,” I say, not for the first time.

“And leave my best buddy?” he replies, leaning across me and punching Josh on the arm.

He’s right. While I’d like him close to me—I’m a little scared of the idea of heading to the big city all on my own—I’m glad he’ll be here to keep an eye on Josh. It lessens my guilt a little. Not that I have anything to feel guilty about. Josh isn’t my responsibility. If I tell myself that often enough, I might even start to believe it.

“So you haven’t changed your mind?” Zayne asks. “You could go to college somewhere local just as easily. You don’t have to go to London. It’s a shithole anyway.”

“No, it’s not. And you know why I need to go.”

He heaves an exaggerated sigh. “Can’t you just let it go? If you had any family in London, don’t you think they would have come forward by now? It’s been over three years.”

I purse my lips and look away, blinking back a tear. Part of me knows he’s only saying what everyone believes. If there was anyone out there who cared an iota for me, they would have found me. There was enough publicity at the time—I made the national news:Girl found in park with no clothes and no memory. But if anyone recognized me, they didn’t come forward. They obviously didn’t want me.

“I’m sorry,” Zayne says in a quiet voice.

“I know. But I need to do this. I feel like I’m stuck and can’t move forward. I need to know who I am. Maybe I can go back to where I was found and ask some questions and—”

“Knowing the past won’t change who you are.” He twists slightly so he can look into my face, and I can see the sincerity in his eyes. Then he snorts. “Anyway, you don’t know how lucky you are. You get a reboot—you can be anyone you want to be. I’d give my left nut to forget where I came from.”

Zayne’s another one who doesn’t talk about his family or what happened before he was put in foster care, but I know it was bad.

“Me too,” Josh says. “I hate Pete, but it’s still better here than it was at home.”

Poor kid. I reach across and ruffle his hair—it needs washing.

Then I sigh. Maybe they’re right and I should let it go, but I can’t. My hand steals up to the pendant I wear on a thin silver chain around my neck. It is the only possession I had on me when I was found—a piece of dark golden amber that was clutched in my hand. That’s how I got my name, though at the time, it was only meant to be temporary. Social services figured they’d find out my real name when they discovered who I was. Only that never happened.

Maybe the amber pendant holds the secret to who I am, and someone will recognize it. Someone must have placed it in my hand. I don’t know why, but all my senses tell me it’s important.

“Ihaveto try,” I say.

Zayne shakes his head, and in the dim light, I see his face harden. He’s like Josh—his mood can change in a moment. I’d be scared if I didn’t know him so well.

“Why don’t you marry Zayne?” Josh asks. “Then you could adopt me, and we could be a real family?”

The words take me back. I’m searching for something to say—like I already have a family. Maybe. Somewhere.