Page 123 of Shades of Silver City

After connecting with Archer—giving him my all—I no longer have even a flicker of attraction toward Reed.

I do, however, harbor great concern for the friend I once had.

“The hell, Tasia?” he rasps.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He mumbles something incoherent.

I glance at Stace’s door. Did she hear me enter? When I face Reed again, his tired expression morphs into something else entirely. Concern slithers down my spine. “Are you all right?”

The whites of his eyes are bloodshot, indicating he’s on something. Again.

I sigh, my shoulders drooping. Reminding myself that I can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, I hustle to my room to grab my bear. Reed doesn’t follow me, which is just as well. I don’t have time to worry about him.

The small space is almost unfamiliar to me now. The bed is rumpled, as if someone recently slept there. My few remaining belongings are scattered around the floor. I kick a pair of jeans away, sifting through my clothes and blankets.

Where the hell is my damn bear?

Seconds later, it hits me. The night I slept at The Rising Star, I snagged my bear and used it as a pillow.

“Shit,” I groan, fighting the urge to rub my face. All my makeup from the masquerade is still on, and I’d rather not smear it.

Pulling out my phone, I shoot a text to Mellie, asking if she’s seen my bear. I wait a few seconds, and when the dots don’t appear, I stuff the phone back into my pocket. I’ll just have to check. If it’s not there, I’ve lost it.

I take one last look around my room. At the lopsided mattress resting on the floor. The chipping plaster. The single window overlooking the parking lot. Compared to Archer’s old apartment, it’s depressing. He might’ve lost his family, too, but his apartment is filled with photos and memories. Filled with love.

This place isn’t my home. I don’t know where I belong, but it’s not here.

I text Archer, letting him know everything is good but I need a little more time. For the next ten minutes or so, I pick up the mess in my room, double-checking for anything I might want to take with me. After witnessing the casualties tonight, my stuff all seems so invaluable or meaningless. So replaceable. Nothing in this room matters as much as the people around me.

Like Archer.

And he seems to thrive on caring for the people around him, protecting them. So maybe I’ll just start fresh and let Archer take care of me after all.

With what feels like finality, I turn the light off and exit the room, shutting the door behind me. Something tells me I won’t ever sleep here again.

"The ethical implications of my experiments weigh substantially on my conscience. My resolve remains steadfast, however, in the pursuit of a benevolent future.”

-Excerpt from the personal journal of Dr. Claude Foster, Director of Faeology at Mesmeric Labs

CHAPTER 29

FANTASIA

Ashattering sound causes me to gasp, and I whip toward the noise. Reed and a brunette girl stand bent over the counter side by side, giggling. Splintered chunks of white ceramic lay broken at their feet in the kitchen.

“Is that my mug?” I storm toward them, picking up the big pieces and confirming it’s my favorite coffee cup. “Fucker.”

“It’s just a cup,” the girl says. Her tone comes across as reassuring, rather than cruel or apathetic, but I take a deep breath to keep from cursing her out regardless.

She’s right. It’s just a cup.

Reed bends over the counter and snorts loudly. A second later he stands up, shaking his head and pinching his nose, then inhales sharply.

My stomach roils at seeing the man I once knew—the boy I thought I loved—spiraling. Without thinking, I grab his shoulder and pull him back.

“Reed—” I trail off when I catch sight of the substance on the counter. Glittering grey. “What did you do?” My voice sounds hazy, far away. I barely recognize it. “Reed, what did you do?”

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