Page 75 of Shadows in Bloom

Under that though, I catch a hint of something else—something that has me giving her a jerky nod and relaxing my body.

Desperation.

She searches my face, visibly debating whether or not I’m going to cooperate. Whatever she sees must satisfy her enough, because a moment later, she removes her hand and takes a small step back, putting some much needed distance between us.

I gasp, followed by a couple swallows as my shoulders curl forward.

Ophelia’s head is cocked as she watches me cross my arms tightly over my chest, trying to suppress the tremor running through me. Her eyes drop, and I tense, nausea churning when my nipples instantly harden from behind my arms.

But then I realize it’s not my chest she’s looking at, it’s the side of my hand, the only one she can see, the one with the black spot on it that won’t come off. My sleeve’s pushed back just enough to bare it to her scrutinizing gaze.

“Can I have a closer look?” she murmurs.

I sink even deeper between my shoulders. “Why?”

She studies me for a beat. “You were in the woods.” Not a question.

“Yeah, so? I was running late.”

Her lip twitches, but a sobering expression is quick to replace whatever amused her. “You shouldn’t?—”

“Did you follow me?” I blurt for a second time. And this time, rather than back down, I take a page from her book and jut my chin up. “Because I saw you come out. Minutes after me. And I—” I abruptly choke back my next words.

“And you…?”

Sucking in my cheeks, I avert my gaze.

Sighing, she says, “I didn’t follow you. I had no idea you were in there. Not until I saw that.” She gestures at my hand. “So again, I ask. How did it happen?”

“How did you know I got it in the woods?”

Our eyes connect for several long seconds, before she finally says, “Let’s just call it a hunch.” Before I can press, she goes on to say, “Now, will you please stop stalling, before I really lose my patience?”

Snorting softly, I shake my head and glance around the small, congested space reeking of cleaning supplies and dirty water. Just as I open my mouth to fire back a sarcastic retort, the bell rings, and I tense.

“Great, just great,” I mutter. Bending down, I gather my scattered books.

“Forget class. Answer my?—”

“A snake, okay?” I exclaim, shooting to a stand. Chest heaving, I dart my eyes around her face, watching as the color leaves it and her eyes grow round and distant. “Are you happy now?” My voice cracks.

I go to push past her, but she quickly jolts out of her daze and cuts me off, grabbing my hand in hers before I even realize what she’s doing. Somehow, I manage to catch my books with the other arm just before I drop them again.

The cool feel of her soft skin on mine startles me enough that it takes me a second longer than it should to react.

“Don’t touch it,” I snap, ripping out of her grasp.

She rolls her eyes.

“I’m serious,” I say, holding my hand to my chest. “It might be contagious.”

The second the words fall from my lips, I instantly want to take them back. Not only does Ophelia seem highly amused by the possibility of catching whatever it is that snake infected me with, if the sparkling mirth and tilt of her lip is anything to go by…

But it invites her to ask in a deceptively soft, dangerous voice, “Worried about me, Winnie?”

My heart thunks in my chest.

Winnie.

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