Shelland Conall has always believed herself to be ordinary, and she's never had reason to suspect otherwise. Not until an enigmatic stranger seems to show up at every corner, and he's claiming to be the one that saved her life. Thing is, Shelland do...
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Chapter Twenty-Eight
The gymnasium doors swing open and two people come rushing out, a wall of fog bursting into the hallway before evaporating into the air.
"Oh my god, Shell! We've been looking for you everywhere!" Pete bends over in front of me, gasping so hard it sounds like his lungs are exploding.
"Where's Beck?" Olivian croaks, also trying to catch her breath.
"Ollie?" Cruxley shifts around Beck, making her way toward us. Seeing the two of them together, their matching green eyes and button noses, crushes all hope that this is a dream.
Olivian's body stiffens, her mouth slowly gaping as Cruxley moves to hug her sister. But unlike Beck, Olivian doesn't hug her back.
"What's happening back there?" Pete straightens up, running a hand through his messed-up hair. "Where is everyone?"
"What? Did you not have to wade through the sea of human-mannequins?" I move forward, enough to push the reunited couple out of my peripheral.
Olivian shakes her head. "No, the gym is empty."
"It was full before the fog hit," Pete adds, looking at Olivian as if for story confirmation. "We couldn't see anything, so we stayed near the stage, but then the fog got so thick and it was so hard to breath. We rushed to get out, but the fog started thinning and suddenly there was no one in there but us."
"We weren't sure if the fog had taken you guys, too." Olivian briefly looks at her sister, only to shift her gaze back to Pete.
"How are we still here?" Beck questions.
I don't look at him. I can't. I reach my hand up to scratch where my braid touches my collarbone—the same spot where Beck's thumb grazed before he kissed me. My fingers brush against a cool chain, and they trace down until connecting with the rounded pendant holding my moonstone.
"The protection spell!" I blurt. "Olivian, the one we did at the hotel. That's why we're not affected, right?"
She frowns, holding out her hand to check for the glimmering silver band around her thumb. Pete follows her lead, retrieving his license from the inside of his breast pocket. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Beck roll up his sleeves. Even without having his long hair, his lucky hairband is still wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet.
Down the hallway, the outer doors rattle as if a hurricane-grade windstorm has picked up outside. The lights start to surge again, some bursting open like popcorn kernels.
"They're close!" Cruxley pushes past us and rips up open the gym doors. "Come on, we need to find a safer place."
Pete huffs, "Like hell I'm going back in there! What if the fog comes back?"
