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Chapter 46: Borrowed Hope in a Locked Kingdom

FIA

I stared at my phone like it could give

answers it didn’t have.

My father’s contact was still on the screen. I’d been looking at it for ten minutes now. Maybe longer. Ti felt strange. Slippery. Like I couldn’t quite hold onto it.

I hit call.

The dial tone rang once. Twice. Three tis.

Then nothing. The call just dropped. Like it had hit a wall and died.

I tried again. Sa thing. The phone connected for a second and then cut off completely.

My hands were shaking. I pulled up my ssages instead and started typing.

Father, please. I need to talk to you. Sothing terrible has happened.

I hit send.

The ssage sat there for a second with the little spinning circle next to it. Then it turned red. Failed to send.

I tried again.

Please answer . I am not fine.

Failed to send.

Hazel killed Milo. She’s lying about everything. Please believe .

Failed to send.

I kept typing. Kept hitting send. Each ssage bounced back like I was throwing rocks at a brick wall. Like my father’s number had been disconnected. But I knew better. I was blocked.

My chest felt tight. My throat was closing up. I wanted to scream but I couldn’t make a sound.

Soone had cut

off. Soone had made sure I couldn’t reach him. And I knew exactly who.

I was tempted to demand why she did it. She would be honest too. Because she knew it would hurt . She enjoyed and relished my pain.

I sat on the edge of the bed with my phone clutched in both hands and tried to think. There had to be another way. Soone else I could call. Soone who might listen.

But who? Who in Silver Creek would even believe ? Who would take my side over Hazel’s?

No one. The answer was no one.

Everyone there thought I was disturbed. Unhinged. A liar who’d tried to steal her sister’s mate. They’d all watched

get dragged away in disgrace. They’d all seen Hazel crying. Playing the victim. Being perfect.

My mind kept circling back to the sa thought. Maybe I could borrow soone’s phone. Soone here in Skollrend. If it was soone Silver Creek did not have it out for, maybe I would be listened to.

But then... this was Skollrend... and I was public enemy number one here as well. Who would hand

their phone?

The thought of it even sounded dumb.

I could admit that because, yes, I was not delusional.

Because what would I even say? Hi, can I use your phone to call my father who won’t answer because my sister probably convinced him that I’m crazy and there is a huge chance that she blocked

on his phone.

I was trapped. Completely and totally trapped. Because if I bought the idea that either Hazel or Isobel had

blocked... Why had father not tried to reach out too? Unless of course... he believed everything. Unless there was not a doubt in his mind that I was this monster they sold him.

Would the man I knew be like that?

A knock at the door made

jump. The phone nearly slipped from my hands.

"Yes?" My voice ca out hoarse.

The door opened slightly. Just a crack. Then wider.

It was the oga from before. The one who’d brought

here earlier. She stepped inside and bowed her head.

"Luna Fia."

I didn’t correct her. I just waited. I did not have the strength to speak much. But the saccharine title was making

sick.

"It’s almost nightti," she said. Her tone was formal but not unkind. "You’ll be having dinner with the Grand Luna. We were given express orders to make sure you look presentable and that this night goes smoothly."

I stared at her. Dinner. With Cian’s mother. Like my world hadn’t just ended. Like Milo wasn’t dead. Like Hazel hadn’t just destroyed the last shred of hope I had.

The oga hesitated. Then she spoke again and her voice was gentler this ti.

"Forgive my crude words, but you look a ss. That cannot stand if you’ll be seeing Luna Morrigan."

Luna Morrigan. So that was her na.

I sighed. There was no point fighting this. No point pretending I could hide in this room forever. Hazel had made sure of that. She’d made sure I had nowhere to go. Nothing to do but play along with whatever ga this was.

"So that’s her na?" I asked.

The oga nodded. She moved to the dresser and pulled out a dress I hadn’t noticed before. It was deep blue. Simple but elegant. She laid it carefully across the chair.

"I’ll go start the water," she said.

I followed her into the bathroom. I had not cared for it when I was taken into the Luna suite. It was massive, with white marble and gold fixtures. The tub was big enough for three people. Maybe four.

The oga turned on the faucet. Water gushed out and steam started rising almost imdiately.

"Luna Morrigan," I said. "What sort of person is she?"

The oga glanced at . Her expression softened.

"She was kind," she said. Then she corrected herself. "She is kind. This pack is lucky to have her."

Was. Is. The shift in tense didn’t escape .

"It’s such a sha," the oga continued. Her voice dropped. "That she was claid by the rot."

The rot. A term I detested so much

"How long has she been infected?" I asked.

The oga tested the water with her hand and proceeded to adjust the temperature.

"I don’t have the number," she admitted. "It was hidden from most of us until it could no longer be hidden."

She paused then looked at .

"What I do know is that her condition is not getting better. Chances are she won’t make it. It feels like it’s terminal."

Terminal. The word hit

hard. Harder than it should have.

"My mother had it too," I said quietly.

The oga’s eyes widened slightly. "She was an oga, wasn’t she?"

I nodded. "There is a reason I am an Oga."

"Our immune systems are weak," the oga said. "So it’s no surprise." She turned back to the bath. "But our Grand Luna, as her title suggests, is a Luna. This is supposed to be a one in a million case. Sotis I wonder... Why her?"

I leaned against the doorfra and watched the steam curl up toward the ceiling.

"Suffering was made for everybody," I said. "No one is exempted because of blood or title."

The oga went very still. Then she turned to look at . Really look at . Like she was trying to figure sothing out.

"I was told to be careful with you," she said slowly. "That you were a horrid person."

I actually laughed. It was bitter and sharp but it was real.

"What do you think?" I asked. "Do I live up to the tales?"

She tilted her head and studied my face.

"It feels like I’m falling into a siren’s song," she said.

That surprised . I blinked.

"Is that a good thing?"

"I hope so." She stopped the water and dipped her hand in again to test it. "You have a presence to you. I’ve worked with slimy people and you don’t seem like them. You seem genuine."

She pulled her hand out and dried it on a towel hanging nearby before grabbing it like she had contaminated it.

"That must be true," she continued. "Or you’re damn good at pretending."

The words should have stung. Should have felt like an accusation. But they didn’t. They felt honest. Like she was just stating facts.

"Your water is ready, mistress," she said. "I’ll give you so privacy to wash while I steam the dress for tonight and get you a new towel."

She started to leave but I stopped her.

"Wait."

She turned back and waited. "Yes?"

"May I know your na?"

Sothing shifted in her expression and her features softened even more.

"Bo," she said. "Your grace."

Bo. I repeated it in my head. Committed it to mory.

She bowed again and left. The door clicked shut behind her.

I stood alone in the bathroom with steam filling the air and making everything hazy. My reflection in the mirror was barely visible through the fog. Maybe that was better. I didn’t want to see myself right now. I didn’t want to see what I’d beco.

I stripped off my clothes. Everything went into a pile on the floor.

The water was hot when I stepped in. Almost too hot. But I didn’t adjust it. I just sank down until it covered my shoulders and closed my eyes.

Bo seed different from the others. She’d looked at

like I was a person. Not a monster. Not a liar. Just soone who existed.

That felt like sothing. Sothing small but real.

I stayed in the bath until the water started to cool. Until my skin was pink and wrinkled. Until I couldn’t put off getting out anymore.

There was a second towel on the rack. I wrapped it around myself and walked back into the bedroom.

Bo was there. She’d set out the blue dress on the bed. Laid out shoes beneath it. There was jewelry too. Simple but elegant. A necklace. Earrings.

"I took the liberty," Bo said when she saw . "I hope that’s alright."

"It’s fine."

She helped

into the dress. Her hands were quick and efficient. She zipped up the back and smoothed down the fabric.

"Sit," she said. Gestured to the vanity.

I sat.

Bo picked up a brush and started working through my hair. It was still damp. Still tangled from everything that had happened today.

"You have beautiful hair," she said.

I didn’t know what to say to that. So I said nothing.

She worked in silence for a while. Just brushing. Untangling. Making

look like soone who had their life together.

"Luna Morrigan will like you," Bo said eventually.

I t her eyes in the mirror. "What makes you think that?"

"She sees people clearly," Bo said. "She always has. Even now. Even with the rot claiming her."

She set down the brush and picked up the necklace. Fastened it around my neck.

"There," she said. "You look presentable."

Presentable. Like that was all that mattered. Like looking the part was enough.

But maybe it was. Maybe that’s all anyone ever saw anyway.

Bo stepped back and looked

over one more ti.

"You’ll do fine," she said.

Then she left

alone again.

I sat at the vanity and stared at my reflection. At this version of myself that looked put together. That looked like a Luna.

But inside I was still falling apart.

Milo was dead. Hazel had won. And I was about to have dinner with a dying woman who would probably believe I was as terrible as everyone else did.

I took a breath. Then another.

I could do this. I had to do this.

Because there was nothing else left to do.

I took a deep breath and summoned a strength from sowhere I did not even know existed.

It was a gamble that I was willing to take though.

"Bo," I said quietly. "Do you have a phone?"

She blinked. "Yes."

"May I borrow it? After dinner."

Her voice was soft. "Of course."

"Thank you," I managed.

She might not have known it. But her positive response returned hope to my soul. Because I was dying to know if my father truly hated

now.

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