Five

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When Sophie got home, she was greeted by Grady, who was sitting at the kitchen table. He didn't look amused.

"That Boy is here to see you. I told him to go away, but he would listen to me."

Sophie smiled, but inside she was worried. Keefe had seemed off in their conversation earlier that day, and her mind imagined a thousand worse case scenarios while she climbed the stairs to her room. Sandor stopped outside her door, shooting a warning glance at Keefe before Sophie closed the door.

"Did you miss me, Foster?" Keefe asked.

"Hardly," Sophie responded. "What's up?"

"Well, you know the Gala next week?"

"Ugh, everyone's been talking about the Gala today!" Sophie groaned. "Can't we talk about something else?"

"Everyone?" Keefe asked, raising his eyebrows. "Like who?"

Sophie rolled her eyes and shrugged. "People."

"People? People who you're embarrassed to talk about?"

"I'm not embarrassed," Sophie said, throwing a pillow at him as she passed her bed. "I just don't want to talk to you."

"Keep telling yourself that!" he called as she went into her closet to change out of her uniform.

After a minute, when Sophie was almost finished changing into an embroidered red tunic and a pair of black leggings, Keefe called, "Foster! Get in here!"

"Just a second Keefe!"

"No, Foster, you're gonna want to see this."

Sophie came out, still tying the bow around her waist. She slowed when she saw what Keefe was holding.

"What's that?"

It appeared to be an origami swan, folded out of bright pink paper.

"It was on your bed," Keefe said, holding it out to her.

She took it carefully, turning it over and over. "Who put it there?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think it's from the Black Swan or . . ."

"I don't know."

"What does it mean?"

Keefe didn't have to say it for her to know the answer. The problem was, none of them knew anything about anything.

"I thought the Black Swan was done with leaving cryptic messages and riddles."

"I thought so too."

Sophie stood silently for a moment before she carefully unfolded it. She smoothed out the paper, flipping it over. One side was pink, the other white, but they were both completely blank.

"It's okay," Keefe reassured her, reaching out to touch her arm. Only then did she realize she was crying.

"I'm fine," she insisted, but she didn't pull away. She crumpled up the paper on her fist, tossing it aside. It landed on her carpet, half-buried under petals.

"I just—" She swallowed. "I feel like we don't know anything. Like no matter what we do, they're always one step ahead of us. Like there's no way for us to—" Her voice cracked, sounding a little like a hiccup.

"Hey, hey." Keefe pulled her closer to him. "That's not true. We're going to figure this out."

She nodded half-heartedly.

"I mean it."

He spoke with such conviction she almost believed him.

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