Page 109 of Broken Omega

“That sounds terrible. You’ve been to one of those places?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been practically nowhere but to school and home since I was born. In fact, the hospital visit my mom made to give birth was my first and final big day out.”

“Wow,” he murmurs. “That really sucks.”

“It really does,” I agree. “I mean, it did. Everything will be different now.”

At least, it will be once I’ve figured out how to sneak around without being identified as Brooke Corvina and promptly dragged back to the academy or my father’s house.

“You have plans?” Kellan asks, as he starts to check through the kitchen cupboards.

“Oh, I havebigplans.”

Finally finding plates in one of the half-empty cupboards, he takes out a couple, and I put them on the table so he can keep up his search.

“I’d love to know what those big plans are,” he says, when I don’t elaborate.

“Maybe I’ll tell you over dinner,” I tease.

The truth is it’s actually a little nerve-racking to say it out loud.

I’ve never admitted what I really want to do with my life to anyone.

Not even Zelena knows, and she’s the best friend I’ve ever had.

I mean, she knows I’m a makeup junkie, but she has no idea about the special effects stuff.

“I think … Yep, I’ve found candles!” Kellan exclaims, removing two large candles from another cupboard. I glance up and smile. They’re the expensive kind that come in thick glass holders.

“Good job. Now we just need matches and we’ll be all set.”

He passes me the candles, and I set them down on the table, removing the lids. One sniff and I can tell they have a vanilla scent. The sweet smell makes me realize I’m actually hungry.

I take the bag from the sandwich place and start emptying it onto the table.

A typical guy, Kellan bought a whole load of chips and soda.

Not so typical, he got salad to go with the sandwiches.

“We’re definitely not going to starve,” I tell him.

“That was the idea,” he admits. “I used cash to make sure I couldn’t be traced spending on a card out here.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I’d go Dutch if I had any cash. My father only let me use plastic.”

“Your father is an asshole,” he mutters, before he closes the drawer he just opened and sucks in a breath. “Sorry. That just slipped out …”

I’m not shocked by the blurted slur. Most people know what my father is, even if they don’t say it.

“Don’t apologize,” I tell him. “My father is an asshole. But how do you know that?”

It sounded like an opinion he had before I even told him about my money situation.

“He stopped me from being approved to visit the academy,” he confesses. “When I tried to get Geraldine to tell me why I was being rejected again, she wouldn’t say, but he called me back and told me to stop harassing her. He’s the one who blacklisted me. I think he knows we’re fated.”

“How would he know?” I ask.

It completely sounds like something my father would do, but I can’t quite connect the dots.

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