Page 98 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

She squints at me. “Why do you need to go to the mall?”

I give in and sink down into the chair next to her. “My foster sister, Claire, asked to meet me. She knows I’m grounded…”

“Of course,” Riley groans. “And I’m the friend with a car.”

I reach over and grab her arm. “Please, Riley,” I beg. “I miss her. I haven’t seen her or Hanna—her sister—since we were taken out of the home…”

I don’t have to fake the tears that spring into my eyes. “I should’ve asked you yesterday, or—”

“You didn’t even mention her.” Riley looks up at the ceiling, blinking quite a lot. “God, stop crying. You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”

I sniff.

She finally stands. “Okay, fine. One hour. I meet your foster sister. And then we come back so Mr. Jenkins doesn’t fry my ass.”

I nod. “Yes. Perfect. Thank you.”

I throw my arms around her shoulders, and she stiffens. She pats my back awkwardly until I release her, then she lets out a small laugh.

“Okay, follow my lead.”

We walk over to her cousin’s office. Riley taps on the door, and Amy jumps.

“Amy,” Riley says. “Margo is feeling super sick. Can you write us a pass to the nurse?”

Amy squints at me. “You’re sick?”

I put my hand over my stomach. “Yeah.”

“Are you pregnant?”

I pale.

She snorts. “Just kidding, of course. Humor. I can write you a pass…”

“Both of us? Amy, come on,” Riley pleads. “And…”

“Oh my god, what are you going to do? You look… devious.”

I bite my lip to hold back a frown. This isn’t going to work.

“Can you write us a pass back from the nurse, too? I’ll bring you Mom’s cookies on Monday.”

Amy’s eyes light up. “Her homemade chocolate chip?”

“Yes,” Riley agrees, nodding emphatically. “So…”

Amy sighs. “Okay, fine. One second.”

“Leave the time blank,” I cut in.

Amy glances at me, rolling her eyes. She hands us the slips, and Riley hugs her.

We sneak out a side door and crouch-run to her car. It’s probably more suspicious that way, but this is the first real time we’ve skipped a class. As soon as we’re on the road, we burst into giggles.

“Tell me about Claire,” Riley orders.

I smile. “She’s sixteen. Smarter than me, for sure. Her sister, Hanna, is twelve. They both came to my foster family a few months after I got there. We became thick as thieves.”

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