Page 40 of Wicked Games (Fallen Royals 2)

I wish I could hear what they’re saying.

She throws a glass. I scream, and both of them stare at me.

Someone yanks me backward.

I fall and fall and fall.

Caleb catches me. He squints. His face is young—fourteen instead of seventeen. “Be more careful, Margo.”

“You were just fighting with my mom,” I say, shaking my head. I look around. There’s nothing but high grass around us. “Where are we?”

“We used to come here,” he answers. He mirrors my actions, head swinging back and forth. “Don’t you like it?”

Don’t you like it?

“I don’t…” I don’t recognize this place. It’s just grass and bright-blue sky, the sun so hot on my skin. “Why were you fighting with Mom?”

His face hardens. “I wasn’t.”

He drops me.

I fall right through the ground, straight into darkness. Straight into my bedroom.

I lunge for the door, but it’s locked. Everything is blurry. Big fat tears fall down my face, and I pound on the door.

“Let me out!” I scream. “Let me out let me out let me—”

It flies inward, knocking me back.

“Dad?” I moan, rolling onto my side. “Dad, Mom—”

It’s not Dad. Why did I think it would be Dad?

“Wake up,” Mom snaps, pressing my shoulders into the ground.

I open my eyes, instantly rattled. Tears fill my eyes, and I fumble for the lamp’s switch. It felt real. Too real. And for once, I remember every second of the dream.

The sudden light blinds me, but I can’t close my eyes again.

There are pieces of my past trying to come out.

Outside, it’s getting light out already. A second later, my alarm goes off. Good timing, since I don’t even want to think about sleep for another sixteen hours.

My shower’s hot water helps shake off any residual chill from the dream, even as I go through it piece by piece. My mom and Caleb arguing… except he would’ve been young. Nine or ten, like me. So that doesn’t make sense.

And the field? Maybe that part really is fiction.

I shiver under the water thinking about my mother. I thought of her with fondness up until…

When was the turning point?

What did she do?

“Margo, you okay?” Lenora calls. “You’ve been in there for a while. You’re going to be late!”

I jump. “Ah, sh—sorry!”

Out of the shower, toweled off, into my uniform in record time. I glance at my phone, shocked that I won’t have time to eat breakfast, let alone put on makeup. I bite the inside of my cheek and rush out the door.

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