Page 52 of Switching Graves

It’s the weirdest thing.

“This conversation has gotten out of hand. I apologize for my behavior,” Whitlock says to break the spell, his voice distant and stiff. Nothing like the angry growl he was releasing into my ear seconds before.

Pointing toward the manila folder at my feet, he goes on. “Your graded paper is right there. I’ll see you in class next week.”

Before I can muster up a response, he’s got his back to me and is disappearing around a corner. When I’m sure it’s safe, I kneel down to grab the folder and open it up. He only gave me 89 percent.

Ava and Leni are waiting for me at our table, their books still untouched. When I fall back into my chair and slap the folder down before me, they exchange a glance.

“Well . . . did he try to murder you?” Ava whispers, her brows pulled together in concern as she makes a silent pass over my body, making sure nothing is wrong.

“Or maybe she tried to murder him. I saw him practically running away a second ago,” Leni jokes, scrunching her nose.

I shake my head and hold up the folder I snatched from the ground. “He just wanted to give me back a paper I had to rewrite.”

I’m still processing the rest because . . . what the actual fuck?

28

Sonny

Downtown Nocturne Valley is made up of four blocks that are jam-packed with small businesses lining the sidewalk and apartments stacked above. They wrap around a large park—all of which is situated in the center of a web of crowded residential streets. Uneven cobblestone paths line the way, with built-in mini gardens and small trees breaking them up. While there are narrow roads that snake between streets, most people appear to get around on foot. They rush past us as we unload from our taxi, taking great care to keep a safe distance away.

“It’s always like this,” Ava explains, strapping her small, cupcake-shaped purse around her shoulder. “They treat us like we’ve got the plague.”

Once Beatrix pays the driver and closes the door, she adds, “I don’t think they’re allowed to interact with the students much.”

“Allowed? That seems odd.”

Ava shrugs. “Small town politics. Either that, or they truly detest us.”

“They don’t detest us, they resent us. A majority of them are Null, and we’re . . . not,” Beatrix corrects glumly.

“Were they ever gifted?” I wonder.

“When you get a straight answer on that, let me know.”

They turn to head south and I follow close behind, noting how the woman and child we pass refuse to lift their gazes up to mine. There are signs posted on light posts every dozen feet that match the one I saw taped to the back of the taxi driver’s seat. It reads:

Students are NOT permitted to use their gifts within Nocturne Valley town limits. Violators will be fined and could face expulsion.

NO EXCEPTIONS.

Interesting. So, Nocturne Valley isn’t a fan of the students. Good to know.

We walk by a few stores before they randomly come to a stop.

Starlight Stitchery and Dress Shoppe is crammed in between a butcher shop and a pet store with nothing to identify it but a small, neon roll of thread on the door. It’s not until Beatrix opens the door and shoves me inside that I see the soft pink walls with the business name painted in large, white bubble letters across the back wall.

A short, thin woman clad in a lavender power suit stands behind the counter beside a dress form that’s draped in a mess of pink silk and tulle. She doesn’t lift her eyes from the dress she’s working on at the sound of the bell dinging above our heads.

“Hey, Miss Kay,” Ava chirps, pulling the woman’s attention to the door. “My friend is looking for something to wear to the Falconry. Got a few minutes?”

“The Falconry?” the woman sings, dropping her jaw. “Well, aren’t you special? Usually, the girls just call in with their requests. Did you want me to make you something custom?”

Her tone is nice enough, but the look she gives me practically begs for the answer to be no. I can only imagine how busy she is this time of year if she’s truly the only seamstress in town like Ava said. She rounds the counter to stand before us, her brows raised in question.

Shaking my head, I gesture around the store. “I was hoping to buy something off the rack, if that’s okay.”

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