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And at night, I lie in bed thinking of Jordan, wondering what he made of this place. He was always hesitant to say much about it.

When the morning of the Mums Ball comes, I pack up in anticipation of seeing my mom. Everything, including the books Beaulah gave me. Maybe I do have some things to learn. It would be vastly easier if Adola could cover for me. She thinks I’m a monster, but she’ll see that’s not true. I find her room and slip a note underneath the door, wishing her luck on Trials.

The door opens. “Quell? What are you doing here?” She grabs the note. “You’re leaving?”

“Can I come in?”

She grumbles, parting the door wider. Adola’s room is nothing like Jordan’s: it is cluttered, and every surface is covered in open books or journals full of handwritten notes. There is no floor in her room. There are only more books. Old-looking ones with gold pages and others thicker than a dictionary. There are more half-empty coffee mugs around the room than I can count. And above her desk hangs an oiled portrait of a half-naked man being forced by a riled-up crowd to drink poison. I study it closer, perplexed. I see a date: 1787.

“Quell, why are you here?”

“Your Trials are tomorrow. Did you try the thing I mentioned?”

She folds her arms.

“I really am here to check on you. And say goodbye.” In a low voice, I explain I’m meeting my mom.

“You’re really leaving?” She shifts on her feet. I set down my bag.

“I really do hope you do well at Trials.”

She sits on the edge of her bed and gestures for me to join. “The thing you told me did help. Thanks.”

“What else goes on in the forest? Is it just the burial?”

“Please stop talking about it. I’d prefer to do Third Rite a thousand times than a virtue pin trial once.”

I eye the time as I sit beside her, thinking of centuries ago—when Darian, twin of a Sunbringer, chose toushana over his proper magic to stop a magical poison rotting their mother from the inside out. And just several decades ago, some say Darkbearers were on the ground in eastern Europe before Allied bombers helped destroy the oppressive regime’s oil refineries, which led to its eventual downfall. Even if I were what Adola fears, from what I’ve been reading, some Darkbearers did incredible things. She’s pushing me away for no reason.

“Have you ever talked to your aunt about your magic?”

“Of course not!” She stands and paces.

Her walls are up with Beaulah, and I wonder if they’ve ever had an actual vulnerable conversation of any kind. Beaulah Perl may be many terrible things, but she is passionate about dark magic. I bet she would help Adola, not tear her down. I consider telling her that, but I keep my mouth shut as she gazes into the distance, not wanting to shake her up anymore.

“I’m scared, too,” I say. Something inside me uncinches.

“What?”

“To see my mom. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I keep thinking: What if she doesn’t recognize me? Or what if she thinks I’ve made a colossal mess of things?” What if she isn’t okay going back on the run again? I let out a heavy breath. “The pressure to not be a disappointment, you know?”

“I don’t care what my aunt thinks anymore. I just want to survive.” Adola tugs at the end of her hair. “I still think about her.”

“Beaulah?”

“Brooke,” Adola whispers. “She was one of my aunt’s favorites, a rising star. She left with a friend to run an errand for Beaulah one day. Now they’re both gone. Dead. I don’t know what happened, but I know my aunt’s obsession with toushana didn’t help.”

The girls my grandmother killed. “That wasn’t your aunt.”

“You’re defending her?”

“No, I—I’m sorry. What I meant to say was you’ll be heir one day. Maybe you can change things.”

“You would not believe how far away that feels. Living in a House where your aunt worships darkness.” Her gaze falls to my hands. I stick them in my pockets so she can see me, not my magic. Maybe that will crack the walls she’s built.

“Dark magic is part of me. I can’t change that. But it’s not all of me; I’m not evil. The best I can do, what I’m trying to do, is figure out who I am. And hold on to that person.”

“And finding your mother will help you with that?”