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There is a dead quiet around the room for just a moment where everyone waits to see Key’s brain matter fly everywhere, but that moment doesn’t come.

“I’m not going to kill you tonight,” I tell him.

He opens his eyes, and they are drowning in tears. I smile down at him, pulling out the gun from his mouth and tapping his cheek. He sags in his chair, his shirt soaked through with sweat.

I’m not going to kill Key tonight because something has clicked in my head. Key is afraid of someone who is close enough to know it if he told me the truth. He can’t tell me because that person is everywhere.

They are everywhere.

Suddenly it clicks.

The words twist in my mind, fitting together like jagged shards of glass. The person behind this belongs to The Snake and Key is going to help me find them.

Chapter Ten: Alex

Iknock on Halle’s apartment door, a paper bag holding a box of cupcakes in my other hand. It’s Sunday, but we didn’t go for our usual brunch date today despite my texts, which she pointedly ignored.

The message is loud and clear, I need to apologise or at least explain my reasoning for doing any of this. I know how people like us are treated in the courts and I don’t want her to experience any of it if I can help it. But more than anything, she is right. A part of me is still ashamed of where we come from.

I wish I wasn’t. I wish I knew the good side of Canning, but I don’t, and I never will.

A moment later, the door swings open and she appears, glaring back at me, an unimpressed pout on her lips.

“Hi,” I start with a bright smile.

She doesn’t return it. “What are you doing here?”

I lift the paper bag. “Brunch?”

“It’s five p.m.,” she points out.

“I know, but I got your favourite cupcakes. Coffee and walnut.”

I see her eyes light up for a split second, but she quickly schools her features, crossing her arms instead and clenching her jaw.

“Okay, fine, I wanted to apologise for what I said,” I say. “You were right.”

Halle’s brow lifts. “You are admitting that I was right?”

I give her a stiff nod. Admitting I’m wrong has never been my strong point. I’m still working on it. “Yes.”

This time, a smile breaks out on her lips. “Sorry, I didn’t quite get that. Please say it again?”

I roll my eyes. “You were right. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

She claps her hands together, laughing quietly. “Break out the fireworks. Alex is admitting he was wrongandapologising!”

“Funny,” I mutter, but she still moves aside to let me in. The scent of Palo Santo and neroli oil hits my nose as I step into her living room, and I feel myself relax. Tarot cards are spread out on her upcycled oak coffee table. I place the paper bag down and glance at the cards like they might actually have the answers I’m looking for.

“What do your cards have to say for this week?”

Halle comes up behind me, picking up a steaming hot mug from the table. “All truths will be revealed,” she says.

“Vague as usual.”

“Not if you’re paying attention,” she says, turning back to me. “So, tell me more about how right I was?” She flops herself onto her sherbet yellow couch and crosses her legs.

Despite myself, I laugh quietly. “It is stupid, but it’s the only option I have.”