Page 126 of Mask and the Magnolia

It hurts way too much.

But so does the idea of leaving.

With a sigh, I lift my hand to my chest, rubbing right over my heart while I continue to torture myself with Magnolia’s final text message.

MAGGIE: I’m quitting, effective immediately. My formal resignation will be in the mail along with a new mailing address where my personal effects and final paycheck can be forwarded. Following that same line of thinking, I’m also ending our relationship. I no longer wish to be with the four of you, romantically or otherwise. What we had is over and I would appreciate it if you could relay that to Severe, Hawthorne, and St. James for me as well. Please don’t try to contact me. Goodbye, Dr. Lowe. I wish you nothing but the best.

It doesn’t even sound like Maggie and I wouldn’t believe it if she hadn’t left me a voicemail that said essentially the same thing.

I tried to respond, tried to call her back, but she must have blocked my number. Her apartment didn’t have much in it before but it was completely empty a few hours after her final text.

Then we heard the announcement.

I was still trying to figure out what I was going to say to my mates, trying to find the goddamn words to tell them Maggie didn’t want to be with us anymore when it went out over the PA system.

Magnolia is marrying Camden this Saturday.

She doesn’t want me, doesn’t want our pack anymore, and she’s going to marry a sick, sadistic fucker who will most likely kill her before their first wedding anniversary.

And it circulated through the speakers of the entire institute, including the ones everyone was instructed not to use on Ward C.

I waited for all hell to break loose. Granted, it took a few seconds for my heart to start beating again after having my world fall apart so quickly. But I pulled myself together and went to find my mates, expecting the worst only to find something else entirely.

I found three beautiful men who looked as gutted and broken as I felt, and while Calix and Des sought comfort from me, Korvin shut down.

He shut down completely, he shut us out, and he hasn’t spoken a single word in almost four days. All he does is sit in his apartment and stare at the wall. I can’t even convince him to eat.

Not that the rest of us are very hungry or looking to chat, but still.

Our pack is a mess, and I don’t know if I should stay or go because of it.

I hear my office door open again, no knock or asking for permission to enter. I don’t really care, I don’t care about much right now, but it is a little rude.

Especially when I’m suddenly spinning in my office chair, whipped around so quickly I get a touch of motion sickness, and when I abruptly stop, I find myself staring directly into a pair of familiar gray eyes, and I frown.

“Can I help you?”

”I sure hope so.” The woman stands to her full height, which is rather tall, probably somewhere between five foot seven and five foot nine, crosses heavily tattooed arms against her chest and arches a brow. “What the hell did you do to my big brother?”

My frown deepens so much I have to push my glasses up my nose. “Do I know your brother?”

The woman rolls her eyes. “According to his last letter, you bonded with him, dumbass.”

Oh my god, it can’t be. “Maisie?”

“In the flesh,” she says as she flashes a smile nearly identical to her brother’s. “You want to tell me what you did to Vinny to make him so fucking miserable?”

With a deep breath, I do.

I tell Maisie the entire story, starting with the day of the transfer, ending with the wedding announcement and a hell of a lot of tears for someone who’s questioned if they’re capable of feeling healthy levels of each core emotion on the wheel.

Me. I’m the one who questioned it. Right up until I came here.

Maisie hands me a tissue as she rubs my back. “That’s quite the tale, Isaak, and now I have one for you.”

I nod, sitting back a little, curious what Korvin’s sister is going to share. No matter what, it’ll be more than he ever has, I can say that for sure.

“Ever since the day I was born, Vinny has protected me.” She leans on the edge of my desk, smiling a little as her eyes wander toward the window. “We had horrible parents. Parents who didn’t care about anything except what we could do for them. How we could give them what they wanted, or help them find a way to get it.”