friends on the other side

chapter eight

Evelyn was beginning to feel like she was living in a daydream that had slipped a little too close to a nightmare.

Lucy had been nothing but kind, loving even, from the very night she'd taken that sip from her glass at the ball. From the moment their eyes met, Evelyn had felt an unspoken promise hanging in the air. Lucy had seemed so earnest, her gaze filled with an affection that made Evelyn's heart race. It had all felt so natural at first—Lucy's gentle touch on her arm, the soft glances, the way she'd leaned in to ask questions, sincerely interested in Evelyn's life and her songs.

But in the days that followed, things had started to change. *Just a little at first.*

Lucy showed up at every single one of Evelyn's performances, no matter how small or far. No matter how many times Evelyn tried to convince her that she didn't have to, that she was fine on her own, Lucy would appear on the corner, just as radiant as the first day. It was flattering, Evelyn admitted, and having a face she recognized in the crowd did give her comfort. But Lucy's eyes never left her, not for a moment, and every note Evelyn sang seemed to loop back into that intense gaze.

And then there were the gifts.

Evelyn had never owned anything finer than the frayed skirts she wore on the street. But Lucy had showered her with fine silk scarves, delicate necklaces, and shoes so soft they felt like clouds on her feet. She had even given Evelyn a beautiful cloak, lined with fur and warm enough for the coldest nights. It was hard to say no; each gift was thoughtful, beautiful. But when Evelyn hesitated or suggested she didn't need anything more, Lucy would brush it off, saying, "I just want you to have the best. You *deserve* it, Evelyn."

A part of Evelyn loved it. *She'd* made this happen, hadn't she? She'd signed the deal; she'd poured the potion into Lucy's drink. Lucy's admiration was a direct result of her decision, her cleverness. This was the reward, the sweet taste of affection she'd dreamed about all those lonely nights, wondering if anyone would ever see her for who she was.

But then another part of her wondered if this was what love was supposed to feel like. She had wanted Lucy to notice her, yes, but she hadn't expected... this. Not the stifling attention, not the strange feeling of being watched. She hadn't wanted someone who would give up their own life just to follow her every step.

Sitting alone in her small rented room, Evelyn turned one of Lucy's gifts over in her hands—a silver brooch, delicate and expensive, far beyond anything Evelyn could ever afford. She let out a sigh, almost a shudder, feeling the weight of it in her palm.

*Was this really what she wanted?*

Maybe this was just how magic worked. Oscar had said it would amplify the feelings that were already there. He hadn't lied about that. And it was too late to undo the deal now. She had signed, and the choice had been made. *There was no going back.*

Determined to let go of her doubts, Evelyn fastened the brooch to her cloak and lifted her chin. This was her life now—luxury, love, devotion. All the things she had wished for, even if they had come with a few shadows.

"Yes," she murmured to herself, the decision sinking in like a stone. "I'm not turning back. But I will definitely talk to her about all of this."