Page 60 of Glass

The egg and flour mix with the oats as they slide down his face, sticky lumpy trails that are going to be really hard to get off.

Possibly impossible.

I press my lips together, hard. Silas doesn’t say anything.

The snort sets itself free. I can’t stop it, can’t do anything but slap my hand over my mouth. Both hands, as the laughter bubbles up in my throat. My whole body shakes as I try to keep it in and fail.

He just looks soridiculous.

And even if Rafe deserved it… Silas deserves it too.

For that fucking list.

A large blob plops directly into his eye, ruining the evil glare he’s pinning me with. Silas curses as he tries to scrape it off, and that’sit.

I’mgone.

I didn’t know it was possible to laugh this hard. Can’t remember the last time I did. Tears of pure entertainment slip out as I wheeze. Rafe isn’t much better. He reaches out to try and brush some of the mess off Silas’s shoulder, shaking off his hand when it sticks.

His eyes meet mine, bright with amusement.

Just for a moment, it feels exactly like it used to. When we used to run through these halls together, playing harmless, childish tricks on each other, on Silas, Kit, on anyone we could.

And when our gazes clash, I know he feels it too.

My laughter finally trails off. His smile begins to dim.

And Silasroars.

I jump back, my hand flying to my throat as he raises a finger.

“Run,” he breathes. “Run, Anastasia. Because if and when I fucking catch you, you won’t be able to sit down for a damnweek.”

The heat rushes to my cheeks. “Did you just – threaten tospankme?”

Over my dead fucking body am I letting Silas Tate anywhere near my ass.

He bares his teeth at me. The rational Silas I know isn’t anywhere to be seen as he snarls again. “Run.”

Fucking hell. He looks really angry.

So I do exactly as he says.

I spin on my heel, and dash to the end of the hall.

Then I stop. Turn around.

And holding Silas’s gaze, I slowly lift my middle finger in the air. And smile.

His mouth drops open.

ThenI fucking run.

Down the hallway. Jumping down the steps. Into the kitchen. And through it, past the washroom and into the porch as I twist the handle with shaking hands.

Itopens.

And I fly out into the bright, cool morning air with a grin, leaving a furious, sludge-covered Silas behind me.