Page 41 of Wicked Games (Fallen Royals 2)

“Good morning,” Lenora says, coming over and planting a kiss on my cheek.

I try not to stiffen with surprise. My heart gives an extra-hard thump.

“Good morning,” I answer.

She hands me a banana and herds me toward the door. “You’re going to be late. Riley’s at the curb.”

I grab my coat and bag, balancing it with the banana, and walk outside.

There’s snow on the ground, and I pause. Winter has made a fast and furious arrival, apparently.

“It’s just a dusting,” Lenora says. “Go!”

“I wish it was summer.” Still, I continue on to Riley’s car, sliding in and slamming the door.

She laughs. “Your coat will work better if you put it on.”

I hand her the banana and my bag. Shove it at her, really. “Hold that.”

Once my coat is on, I take my stuff, and she pulls back onto the road.

“I had a weird dream,” I say. “And I can’t tell what’s real and what’s my imagination.”

She glances at me. “What was it about?”

“My mom and an older Caleb arguing, then Caleb and I were in a field, and then I was in my room…” I shake my head. “I feel like I’m misremembering.” That’s how dreams work. Let them sit in your brain long enough, and the finer details slip away.

“What were they arguing about?”

“I couldn’t hear.”

“An older Caleb—like his dad?”

I flinch. Why didn’t I think of that? “Oh my god.”

She bounces in her seat. “Okay, okay, so your mom and Caleb’s dad probably argued at some point.”

I hesitate. She was really angry in the dream. Angry when she burst into my room, too.

“Caleb stopped by last night,” I say. I left the bracelet on the dresser. Didn’t even think about grabbing it this morning. My wrist feels shockingly bare without it. “He wanted me to forgive him.”

Riley snorts. “Don’t.”

“I’m not going to.”

“And what did Amelie want? I’m sorry I didn’t go with you, I just… I don’t trust that girl.” Riley parks and shuts the car off. “You didn’t agree to do anything with her, right?”

“Um, no.” I make a face. “She was encouraging me to dump Caleb and tell her what I remember. And… you know those texts I showed you at the beginning of the school year?”

She tilts her head. “The creepy ones from the blocked number.”

“Yeah. Well, they didn’t stop.”

“Margo Wolfe! You never said.”

Heat crawls up my neck. “I didn’t want to freak anyone out.”

“Give it to me.”

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