Page 51 of Snake

“Coal,” I repeat quietly.

They gave me more than that, out there in the alcoves.

Romi rolls her eyes. “Are you ADHD or something? Because I swear, I can’t keep your attention for longer than a second.” She rummages in the pocket of her dressing gown and pulls out a bundle of tissue paper.

Most of the girls are in their PJs. Some are even wearing peel-off face masks and have toe separators on each foot as they give each other pedicures. I thought nail polish was a no-no, but I guess someone smuggled some in.Less likely someone’s going to be checking our feet for contravening the dress code.

Romi hands me the balled-up tissue.

I give her a wary look as I take it. There’s something inside, light but hard. I peel away the tissue paper and stare at the crudely carved piece of coal nestled inside. “Erm...”

“Isn’t it adorable? He did it after all, even with all the complaining.”

Probably because of all the complaining. “It’s...definitely a piece of coal.”

“Oh come on,” Romi says through a laugh. “Are you seriously telling me you can’t see that it’s a slice of apple pie?”

It’s triangular enough, sure, but it’s as if Magnus chose a piece of coal that was already in kind of the right shape and hacked off some pieces to make it more uniform. “Oh, right. I thought it was pumpkin pie.”

My roommate sends me a dramatic eye roll. “So? Did they ask you proper or not?”

I bite the inside of my lip. The Serpents said nothing about keeping the carving a secret. But I have a feeling unveiling it to the world—even just Romi—is a bad idea.

Which is ridiculous, of course. Why shouldn’t the students at this school know that the Serpents aren’t the full-up psychos they’ve led everyone to believe they are?

Probably because my reservations have nothing to do with paranoia. If everyone knew the Serpents had at least one good heart between the three of them, then it wouldn’t be my little secret anymore. Then I’d have to share them with the world.

I like it when they share me. I won’t take kindly to having to share them.

“Oh my God, they did.” Romi’s eyes sparkle with impish delight. “Show me, Nim. For fuck’s sake, show me!”

If Romi wasn’t meant to see it, I wouldn’t have transferred the little carving into the pocket of my dressing gown. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. In all honesty, I do want her to see it. I’ve never felt this close to a girl, even to Peggy. I want to share everything with Romi. Maybe it’s the way she opened up to me, how she took me under her wing when no one else in this damn place seemed to give a fuck whether I live or die.

I’m an only child, and I was always happy with that. But being around Romi makes me wish I’d had a sister. Maybe then I wouldn’t have felt so alienated from my parents, so lonely in a house where they were either fucking or fighting.

It sounds extreme, but looking back, that’s what it boiled down to. My parents had a volatile relationship. It was obvious they loved each other...even in the way they used to fight. But they were so in love, so fixated on themselves, that sometimes it was like I didn’t exist.

I don’t think I could ever have admitted that to myself when they were still alive. Even now, the echoes of that thought feel dirty and spiteful. I guess I’m angry at them for abandoning me...again. For leaving me feeling lonely and insignificant—a constant third wheel.

It’s easier to think they went off on some adventure without me than the truth. Because in one version, there’s always the possibility they may return. That they’ll suddenly remember they have a daughter, and come back home, all apologies.But the truth leaves no room for fantasies. In the real world, they’ve left for good.

At least now they’re together forever. No one can ever get in their way again.

A hand squeezes my thigh. I glance up at Romi. For a second, hot tears flood my eyes, but I will them down with more blinking and iron resolve. “They did ask properly,” I whisper.

I bundle up her carving and hand it back to her and then take mine out of my pocket. It’s still in the satin sheath. Coal dust streaks my fingertips when I reach inside and draw it out.

Romi goes utterly silent when I lay it on my palm. “Who...?”

“They wouldn’t say. Could have been any of them.”

Romi reaches out her hand, but snatches back her fingers before she’s close to touching it. “It’s fucking beautiful.”

I peer down at the carving, my lips curling into a faint smile.

There on my palm, no larger than a small egg, is a carving of an apple. Three serpents wrap around it, each biting into a different part of the fruit. The details are a little blurred where the coal rubbed against fingers or the satin sheath, but whoever carved this took the time to detail things like the individual fangs and a suggestion of scales.

When I look up, Romi’s eyes are latched onto mine. “You know this isn’t enough, right?” she asks quietly. “I don’t think anything will ever be enough.” She glances around the room before fixing on me again, her brown eyes intent. “You know who they really are. What they’ve done. Don’t let them fool you into thinking they’re not savages.”

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