Page 102 of The Cursed Fae

“You didn’t have to do that.” She slowed her pace. “For real, I’ve gotten more presents than anyone needs.”

“This one is a bit different from the others,” I said, cringing at how badly I was screwing this up.

Morgan laughed uneasily. “Okay, consider me intrigued. Tell me more.”

I shook my head. “Not now. Maybe tonight, during dinner, we could go to your room together. Just the two of us.”

Morgan’s expression softened. She stopped walking and put a hand on my arm. “Oh, Winter. I am flattered. Honestly. But I’m not ready to date yet.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks. This was not how I expected this conversation to unfold.

“That’s not what I—it’s not like that. I only meant that it would be better if no one else was around. Wow... I am really not good at this.” I met her gaze. “Can you just trust me?”

Brown eyes conflicted, she finally nodded. “Sure. Come to my room during dinner.”

I gave her a relieved smile. “Thank you.”

Ten minutes after the cafeteria doors opened, I stood outside Morgan’s door, taking deep breaths as I worked up the nerve to knock. Missy had said to get Morgan alone, and she would find us. Beyond that, there wasn’t really a plan. Palms sweaty, I finally plucked up the courage and knocked.

“Come in!” Morgan called, her voice muffled.

Just tell her the truth.

I turned the knob and walked inside. Morgan was in front of her vanity, admiring the flouncy black cocktail dress she wore. She smiled and waved in the mirror before turning to greet me. Her eyes were bloodshot, an obvious sign she’d been crying.

Should I leave? I wondered.

Missy meant well, but I wasn’t sure this was best for anyone.

“So what’s this mysterious gift you want to give me?” she asked, one hand on her hip.

It was difficult to swallow, and I had trouble meeting her gaze. Why the hell had I agreed to this?

“Winter, don’t keep me in suspense,” Morgan teased.

“Um, okay. You know how I’m a Sable fae?” I twisted my hands together, wishing I’d practiced this speech ahead of time.

She nodded and narrowed her eyes.

“The gift of sight runs in our family. Nana Essie has it, and so do I,” I said in a single breath, desperate to get the words out before they stuck in my throat.

All the color drained from Morgan’s face. She reached blindly for her vanity stool. It took her a few tries before her hand found the metal back. She sat heavily.

“Why are you telling me this now?” she demanded.

She’s going to make me say it, I realized.

I hesitated before finally admitting the truth. “Because I’ve been talking to Missy.”

Chapter thirty-five

What's Grief, if not Love Perpetuating?

Morgan clung to the chair with a white-knuckled grip. Her chest rose and fell too quickly as tears filled her eyes.

“She wants to speak with you too,” I continued. “I understand if you’d rather not. It’s totally up to you.”

Missy would kill me if she said no, but Morgan looked so sad, and I refused to force her into a conversation against her wishes.

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