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Chapter 3

My parents stand at opposing ends of the living room, each blocking my only means of escape. I plop onto the couch and play with a loose lock of hair. No way am I looking at them. Not when they’re doing this to me. Taking away everything and everyone I care about, no matter how it affects me.

“We know this is hard,” my mom says.

I glare at her. “You have no idea what this is like for me!”

“We’re leaving our lives too, Marra.”

“But you have lives to go back to in Valora! I don’t. I was a child the last time I was there! Don’t you get that?”

“Your mother just said we know this is hard.” My dad’s brows knit together.

“Hard? That makes it sound like a track meet. This is impossible! You’re not even letting me say goodbye to my friends. Not taking my feelings into account.”

He steps closer, leaving some space for me to run out of the room.

I wait for a better opportunity.

His eyes fixate on me. “It’s our duty. With Tiberias dead, we’re next in line. I’m king. You’re the princess.”

I sit up straight. “Nobody asked me if this is something I want. For the record, it isn’t.”

“Aria wanted it. She dreamed of returning to Valora.”

He may as well have slapped me across the face. I ignore the lump growing in my throat. “Well, she’s not here now, is she? It was her dream, not mine.”

His eyes narrow. Turn yellow. “You need to pull yourself together. Stop acting like a toddler. We’re leaving, and that’s final.”

I jump to my feet and avoid looking at his eyes. “I want to say goodbye to Ivy. You owe me that much.”

“Text her.”

“You want me to say goodbye to my best friend through a text?”

“We don’t have time!” He raises his fists and little yellow bolts of electricity shoot out. Static swims around the room, makes the hairs on my arm stand on end.

“Why isn’t there time for me to say goodbye? You’re yanking me from my life. I don’t think this is too much to ask.”

He marches closer to me, stopping just before our feet touch. The electrical charge grows even stronger. His eyes are still yellow. He stares me down. “We’re leaving, and that’s final. Do not cross me. I tried being nice. Now I’m putting my foot down.”

Electricity dances around me. Makes goose bumps form along my arms and down my back. I swallow. “What about our things? The house?”

“You think anything will survive underwater? You’ve seen what happens when homes get flooded—everything is destroyed.”

“So, we’re just leaving it?”

“We don’t need any of it.”

“But pictures! Memories. My trophies. What about—?”

“Enough!” He spins toward Mom. “Talk sense into your daughter. We leave in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes? My hands fall to my sides. Ten minutes.

That’s how much time I have to say goodbye to my life.

Dad storms out of the room, and the air returns to normal.