Page 129 of How to Flirt with a Witch

“That won’t be necessary,” Natalie says.

My stomach plummets. It keeps falling, sinking right through the floor and into oblivion.

Fiona raises an eyebrow. “And why not?”

Natalie shoves her hands into her pockets, not meeting my eye. “Katie and I were just discussing how it’s best for everyone if this stops now.”

Her words carry through the empty corridor. The sense that multiple things are coming to an end looms over me like a stormcloud—a relationship, a partnership, any trust I’ve built with people in my short time here.

All because I was desperate for answers.

“I see. Katie, can you confirm?” Fiona’s gaze burns the side of my face, but I can’t bring myself to meet her eyes.

Numb, I set my jaw and nod, trying desperately not to convey how much pain is lancing through me with each beat of my heart. My mouth is dry, my next words tasting like ash. “Yes. Whatever was going on is over anyway.”

Chapter 31

Cookies for Heartbreak

Our relationship will notbe brought to the Directors. We will not have to sign anything or be put on trial or face a punishment—because there is no relationship. It’s over.

Natalie walks away with forgiveness, and why wouldn’t she? Everyone likes her here. She’s been part of the coven since she was a kid, and she’s never had to fight to prove her loyalty.

As for me?

I’m alone in my room in a ringing silence, pacing as I process this abrupt end. After a last, cold stare, Natalie and Fiona left me in the corridor, my chest so tight I thought I would suffocate, my eyes stinging until the hallway became a blur.

I can’t stay here anymore. I don’t know what I’m fighting for, and I don’t know what I’m fightingagainst. I’m just a pawn in a game I barely understand. Is locking up bio magic really the right answer when it could stop so much suffering? Would setting it free just mean trading one type of suffering for another? I’m not the person to solve this problem. I justwant to go back to normal life and normal decisions—away from magic and oaths.

Natalie has chosen CSAMM over me, and I can’t blame her. I don’t want her to sacrifice everything she’s worked her life for, so it’s better if I go. It’ll be easier to get over each other if we aren’t living in the same building.

So, that evening, I take one last look around the cozy suite that has been my home these past weeks. I touch the bonsai tree beside the bed, its soft leaves tickling my fingers, already missing it.

I place Ethel into her kennel and extend the handle of my suitcase, which is crammed with my ever-dwindling belongings. I’m only making one trip, so I’ll have to leave half my stuff behind. At this rate, a few more moves and I’ll have nothing left but Ethel and my laptop.

Inhaling the room’s earthy scent one last time, I back up through the door and into the corridor. I use my suitcase as a crutch, limping heavily on my bad ankle. The rolling wheels and my uneven footsteps reverberate off the brick walls, a hum that fills my chest until it’s ready to burst.

If the people in the lounge see me and wonder where I’m going, they don’t stop me to ask. Maybe they’ll come for me when they find out I’ve left, or maybe not. My oath didn’t say I’m trapped for life. And they sure as hell don’t care enough to fight to keep me here.

Passing the Library wing, that familiar sensation of nearby magic tugs at me, a hook sinking into my core and pulling me toward it. This place is a cavern of secrets—worse than an Egyptian tomb, worse than a haunted mansion, worse than a treasure chest that’s been bolted shut, thrown into the ocean, and guarded by sharks. I’m not meant to know why that particular corridor beckons me to follow its winding halls so badly, and I have to accept that.

I keep going to the exit, where I stare up at the underside of the steam clock, its inner workings churning away—my first view when Nataliebrought me into this world. I don’t know how I’ll get out without being escorted, but surely someone will pass by eventually and can bring me with them.

I wait, bitterness rising as I stand here, helpless to do so much as leave the building without magic. Like a cat needing someone with thumbs to open its crate.

Soon, quick footsteps approach, and I stiffen.

The two middle schoolers who talked to me in the courtyard come racing down the hallway, their smiles fading when they see me standing there like a runaway.

“Heading up?” I ask them.

The boy nods. “Going ice skating. Are—are you leaving?”

“I’d like to.” I shift my weight, wincing. “Can you bring me out with you?”

“Where are you going?” the girl asks.

“Home. I’m not cut out for this place.”