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The hallway leading to Mr. Fallon’s office feels longer than it should, each step dragging as if my legs are wading through quicksand. I pass a few students heading in the opposite direction, their chatter fading into white noise. The world feels muffled, distant, like I’m wrapped in a weighted blanket that’s slowly suffocating me.

When I was at work earlier, the message came in, and I’ve been on pins and needles ever since, unable to concentrate on anything else.

I check the email on my phone again for the hundredth time.

Subject: Urgent: Formal Meeting Regarding Your Enrollment Status

Dear Ms. Rosenthal,

I hope this message finds you well. I am reaching out to address an important matter regarding your enrollment at Blackthorne University.

The Office of Student Affairs has received concerning reports related to recent activity involving student records and campus facilities. Due to the nature of these concerns, it is imperative that we meet to discuss your enrollment status and clarify your involvement.

Please be advised that attendance at this meeting is mandatory. Failure to attend may result in further action, including the potential escalation of the matter to the university’s disciplinary board. If you have any questions or require accommodations, please do not hesitate to contact me directly at this email address or call the Office of Student Affairs at the number below.

Thank you for your rapt attention to this matter. We look forward to resolving this issue in a constructive manner.

Sincerely,

Trevor Hathaway

Student Guidance Counselor

Blackthorne University

The email lists a date and time as well as a phone number at the bottom, but all the words blur slightly as I read them, my heart pounding in my chest.

The last time I spoke to Mr. Fallon, it was to drop some of my classes. He’d been kind—almost too kind—assuring me that the university understood my situation. This feels… different.

The door to his office is ajar when I reach it. I knock softly, hesitating on the threshold.

“Come in,” Mr. Fallon calls.

I step inside, the scent of stale coffee and office supplies hitting me immediately. His desk is a mess of papers and manila folders, a coffee mug perched precariously close to the edge. The counselor himself looks tired, his tie slightly askew and his hair mussed like he’s been running his hands through it all morning.

“Thanks for coming in, Sylvie,” he says, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. His tone is gentle but firm, the way a disappointed parent might sound before delivering bad news.

I sit, clutching my bag in my lap. “You didn’t really give me much of a choice.”

His lips press into a thin line. “I know the timing is inconvenient, but this is an important matter. One that requires immediate attention.”

The knot in my stomach tightens. “What’s going on?” I ask, because I honestly haven’t a clue what could be so important.

He leans forward, folding his hands on the desk. “Sylvie, effective immediately, you’ve been placed on an indefinite formal suspension from Blackthorne University.”

For a moment, all I can do is stare at him. The words don’t make sense. It’s like they are all jumbled, out of place. Suspension? Indefinite? What the hell is he talking about?

“I… wait. What?” I sit up straighter and clear my through. “Why?”

He reaches for a file and opens it, flipping through a few pages before pulling one out and sliding it across the desk toward me. “The administration has reviewed evidence of you tampering with confidential student records. An office administrative assistant informed us, and security footage and keycard logs place you in the administration office late one night last week. Her story checks out.”

I pick up the paper, my hands trembling. Still images from a security camera, the timestamp glaring up at me. The girl in the photo is… me. Same messy bun, same jacket, even the same tired slouch in her shoulders. She’s walking through the dimly lit hallway, her head down, a file folder clutched in her hand. Another photo showcases me looking straight at the camera, almost like I’m posing. What sticks out the most is the glaringly obvious gold necklace around “my” neck. It’s an initial. An S .

It’s me. Unmistakable.

Except it’s not me.

It’s Lara.

I slam the papers back down on the desk. “This isn’t me.”

His brow furrows. “Sylvie, the evidence is clear?—”

“No,” I snap, cutting him off. “It isn’t. I would never break into an off-limits area. And I have no use for anyone’s records.”

He exhales slowly, like he’s trying to keep his patience. “I understand you haven’t been on campus quite as much, but you have still been here. The woman in the photo is clearly you.”

“Regardless, Mr. Fallon. I did not do what you’re accusing me of.” I shake my head in complete disbelief. “Plus, again, why would I need to tamper with records? It makes no sense.”

The words come out louder than I intend, and he flinches slightly. He leans back in his chair, regarding me carefully. “Sylvie, I’m trying to help you here, but you need to be honest with me. If there’s something going on, now is the time to tell me.”

“There is something going on,” I say, my voice shaking. “But it’s not what you think.”

Mr. Fallon raises an eyebrow. “Then what is it?”

I hesitate. How do I explain this without sounding insane? I can’t tell him the truth—that my twin sister is working with a secret society filled with dark magic and is somehow impersonating me to… to do what, exactly?

“I think…” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “I think my sister is pretending to be me.” I know my sister is trying to be me. That’s what I should have said. There’s no other excuse.

His frown deepens. “Your sister? Sylvie, I’ve spoken to Lara. She came in to withdraw from her own classes last week. All of them, in fact. She seemed fine and I haven’t seen her since. Why would she drop her classes, tamper with classified information, and then pretend to be you? Surely you know that sounds a bit…unbelievable.”

Of course, Lara seemed fine, I think bitterly. She’s always been good at pretending.

“She’s… complicated,” I say finally. “Things are complicated. Different. We’ve been going through a lot, and I think she might be acting out. She isn’t happy with me right now.”

“Acting out by committing academic fraud and putting the blame on her twin sister?” He doesn’t even bother hiding his skepticism.

“I don’t know!” I snap, my frustration boiling over. “I just know I didn’t do this, and there’s no way I could have. I wasn’t even in this area of the school when that was timestamped. If I know it isn’t me, and I do, then there’s one explanation and it’s the person who looks identical to me.”

He sighs, rubbing his temples. “Sylvie, I want to believe you. I really do. But the evidence is overwhelming. He glances down at the S necklace around Lara’s neck. “If you have proof that your sister?—”

“I don’t have proof,” I say, cutting him off again. “But I swear on my life, this wasn’t me.” I shrug. “Don’t you see how easy it would be for her to say she’s me when she’s caught? We’re identical twins, Mr. Fallon. You have to at least understand it’s a possibility to explore.”

For a moment, we just stare at each other. The room feels unbearably small, the air heavy with tension. My thoughts switch to Lucian and how I wish he were here. He’d know how to fix this. He’s become a sense of security for me, and I’m falling for him in a way I never thought possible. Everything is better when he’s by my side. I lose myself in thoughts of Lucian as the guidance counselor ponders my life, until finally, he leans back in his chair, his expression softening slightly.

“I’ll bring your concerns to the administration,” he says, his tone cautious. “But for now, the suspension stands, and my hands are tied. You’re not permitted on campus until further notice.”

The finality in his voice is like a punch to the gut.

“Mr. Fallon, please,” I whisper, my voice cracking. This could ruin everything for me.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he goes back to working on the mess of papers on his desk, and without looking up he says, “Would you like me to get security to escort you? Or do you think you can make it on your own?”

I refuse to answer and instead stumble out of his office, disoriented, my head spinning. The hallway feels colder now, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows on the tiled floor. My footsteps echo in the empty space, each one a reminder of how completely I’ve screwed up my life.

No. Not me. Lara.

Lara has completely fucked me over, and it’s increasingly hard not to be pissed at her for all of this. I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t her—that who she was is still more important than what’s happening right now.

I can’t think straight. My heart is racing, and my hands won’t stop shaking. By the time I reach Nicole and Rebecca’s dorm, I’m on the verge of hyperventilating. I knock on the door, and when Nicole answers, the look on her face tells me everything I need to know.

“I’m screwed,” I say, pushing past her into the room.

“What’s going on?” Rebecca asks from her spot on the couch, her tone cautious.

“Lara’s been pretending to be me,” I snap, pacing back and forth. “She broke into the admin office, tried to steal records, or tamper with them, or something, and now I’m the one getting suspended for it!”

Nicole closes the door quietly. “We were going to tell you.”

I stop in my tracks. “Tell me what?” I demand, spinning around to face her. “How does everyone always know shit before I do?”

They look at each other and sigh, and it feels vaguely like when we first met, when they were keeping the fact that they are witches from me.

“Lara tried to pretend to be you with us, too,” Rebecca says, standing up. “We have no idea what her end game was, but we sensed it immediately. We could tell it wasn’t you.”

Nicole shrugs. “We wanted to tell you but not like this. You’ve been through hell, Sylvie. We didn’t want to make things worse.”

“Worse?” I laugh bitterly. “I just got kicked out of school— indefinitely . How much worse could it possibly get?”

Nicole steps forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. Her touch was meant to be grounding, but I shrug her off, too wound up to be consoled.

“We didn’t think she’d go this far,” Nicole says quietly.

“But she did,” I snap. “And now I’m the one paying for it. What the hell was she trying to do? Why would she risk everything like that?”

Rebecca and Nicole exchange a glance, one of those silent conversations that I’m not a part of. It only makes my anger burn hotter.

“Don’t do that,” I say, pointing at them. “Don’t talk around me. If you know something, just say it.”

Rebecca sighs, crossing her arms. “We didn’t want to worry you, but it wasn’t just once. It was twice.”

My stomach drops. “When did it happen?”

“About a week ago and then again yesterday,” Nicole says. “She stopped by here first. Said she needed supplies for?—”

“‘A memory enhancement spell,’” Rebecca says flatly. “She said she assumed we had a way of getting it.”

I blink, confused. “What would she need that for?”

“No idea,” Rebecca says. “But we didn’t give her anything. We knew it wasn’t you. Her energy was… wrong.”

I sink into the nearest chair, my knees suddenly too weak to hold me up. “She’s losing it,” I whisper. “I thought maybe… I don’t know, maybe there was still a part of her that could be saved, but…”

Nicole kneels in front of me, her face soft with concern. “She can still be saved. But you can’t start giving up now. You’ve done so much and this isn’t your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” I ask, my voice cracking. “She’s my sister. My twin. We used to be inseparable, and now she’s—” I cut myself off, shaking my head. “I should have seen this coming. I should have stopped her.”

“There’s no stopping someone like Lara,” Rebecca says, her voice sharper than Nicole’s. “Not when she’s made up her mind about something and she’s being controlled by Solstice.”

I slump against the wall, my head spinning as I recount what happened in Fallon’s office. “She was pretending to be me to get a spell. A memory enhancement spell. Why?” I ask, my voice trembling. “What would she need that for?”

Rebecca and Nicole exchange a glance, their expressions grave. This time, I don’t bother snapping at them for their silent communication. I’m too drained to care.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Nicole says, pacing the room. “Unless she was trying to piece something together for herself… Maybe something she’s forgotten?”

“She’s working with the Solstice Society,” Rebecca points out, sitting cross-legged on the couch. “If they’re involved, it’s more than likely part of a larger plan.”

“But why me?” I ask, pushing off the wall and pacing the small space. “Why go out of her way to impersonate me instead of just asking for what she needed as herself? She knows you two would’ve seen through it eventually.”

Nicole chews on her lip, her brows furrowed in thought. “Maybe it’s not just about the spell. Maybe it’s about you. About keeping you off-balance, distracted—keeping you from digging too deep. Keep you looking in the wrong places.”

“Or,” Rebecca interjects, “it’s because of her lost humanity. If she’s still trying to hold on to whatever’s left of it, maybe she thought pretending to be you would make it easier to manipulate us.”

Rebecca looks at me, clearly as disheartened as I am. “Has Ravenna set up the meeting with the Guild yet?”

I hesitate, the knot in my chest tightening. “I actually talked to her earlier,” I admit. “I had a shift at Potions and Petals this morning, and we worked on spells a bit in our downtime. We’re meeting with the Guild tomorrow, and I’d love for you guys to be there if you can make it work with your schedules.”

“Good,” Nicole says, folding her arms across her chest. “Because we’re running out of time, Sylvie. If Lara keeps spiraling like this, the Solstice Society will use her for whatever twisted agenda they have, and there won’t be anything left of her to save.”

The words settle like a stone in my stomach. I look down at my hands, clenched tightly into fists at my sides. They’re right. And as much as I want to scream, cry, and curse the universe for everything it’s taken from me, I know there’s no room for that now.

I just need to trust that I’m moving in the right direction.

Easier said than done.