Twenty-Six

The world around me is a blur of neon lights and distant sirens before everything snaps into focus. My knees buckle, and I land hard on the concrete, my palms scraping against the cold sidewalk. I gasp as I stand up slowly, legs trembling. Cool gusts bite through my dress, bringing with them the smells of exhaust and fast food. Two scents I hadn’t realized until now that I could have gone the rest of my life without smelling.

I still clutch the card in my hand, but it no longer pulses. The vibrant glow and magickal symbols Kane bespelled the Empress with have vanished. His magick is gone. Kane is gone.

“I’m home.”

A sharp, startled inhale draws my attention, and my gaze swings to the bus stop. A woman sits up from the metal bench. She blinks at me and pulls her thin blanket up around her shoulders.

“Where’d you come from dressed like that?” she asks, her bushy brows furrowing beneath a stained and tattered beanie.

I tuck the card into my bodice and look down at the elegant velvet dress, sparkling silver chalices stitched into its hem. Obviously, there were some things I didn’t think through. “A party?” I grimace. “A costume party.”

“Why you so wet?” Doubt barbs her question, and her eyes narrow as she scoots deeper under her blanket.

I shrug like being soaking wet in an authentic Renaissance gown in the middle of the city is an everyday occurrence. “Just one of those nights.”

She purses her lips and nods. “Say less.” Satisfied with my answer, she settles her head back against her bag and closes her eyes.

I pat my sides, and my stomach sinks. My dress wasn’t the only thing I didn’t think about. Once again, I’ve left my purse behind. I don’t have my phone, wallet, bus pass, keys, or anything that belongs to me, to this world.

Anxiety churns in my stomach, and I force myself to take a deep breath. There’s only one place I can go.

Fucking Chad.

The two-block trek to Chad’s apartment building feels endless. Each step is a struggle against the cold wind pulling at the soaked fabric of my dress and silk slippers, more useless against the Chicago winter than my busted rain boots.

Although the slush isn’t quite as slushy as it was when I was last here.

My gaze searches for the snow plowed from the streets and piled on the sidewalks, but the previously icy, snow-covered concrete only holds melted patches of slush and dirty puddles. Kane said time moves differently between realms, and the evidence is all around me.

How long have I been gone?

I bite the inside of my cheek. Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t have my phone. The idea of facing dozens of missed calls and messages from my mom and Posh Pulse makes my heart lurch.

I keep my head down as I pass cyclists and dog walkers, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. When I finally reach Chad’s building, I hesitate a few feet from the entrance. The last time I was here, I found out he was cheating on me and that I’m too desperate and stuck to be a viable romantic partner.

Then again, I disappeared to an entirely different realm and found out the same thing.

Even though Kane says he no longer has feelings for Ivy and all signs point to that being the truth, they were engaged. He needed her to fulfill his plan. Somehow, that’s worse.

But he doesn’t love her, Hannah. He might actually love you. But you ran away before you could find out. Now he’s going to die and—

“Shut up!” I bite out, just as the doorman swings open the door.

“Charming, as always.” Stuart scans me from head to toe, lingering on the wet braid draped like a rat’s tail over my shoulder and the puddle forming around my feet.

I step into the lobby with a final shiver as the warm air thaws the chill that’s stiffened my limbs. The lobby is empty and quiet, with only the soft hum of the heater and the distant sound of the elevator doors opening and closing.

“I need to use the phone,” I say, following him to his desk.

He cocks his head, a smirk playing on his thin lips as he sits down at his post. “From your exit on your last visit, I assumed Mr. Bartley would no longer be receiving you as his guest.”

I stiffen, drawing on every ounce of my inner Lady Ashwood. “You assumed incorrectly, Stuart. Phone,” I say, my voice clipped. “Now.”

His beady eyes widen, but he quickly masks his surprise with a condescending sneer and pushes the phone across the desk. “Did you leave something here from your last visit? It’s been a few days, but I can check—”

“How many?” I demand, my voice sharp, anxiety gnawing at my insides.

Confusion creases his forehead.

“How many days since my last visit?”

“Three, but I—”

“Thank you.” I cut him off, picking up the receiver and turning my back to him.

I dial the only number I know by heart besides my mom’s. The phone rings, each tone trilling in my ear like a countdown. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come.

“It’s a wonderful day here at Posh Pulse. How can we make your day wonderful too?”

* * *

I stand outside Chad’s apartment building, my damp clothes clinging to me like a second skin, my hair getting frizzier by the minute. My teeth chatter despite my best efforts to clench my jaw, and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to ward off the lingering chill.

The streetlights click on, casting a dim yellow glow over the cracked sidewalk when Jade honks, her sleek black Mercedes gliding to a stop in front of me. I open the door and run my hand over my butt to make sure I’m not too wet to sit in her luxury vehicle before sinking into the plush leather seat and closing the door.

“Hannah—” Jade starts, but I hold up my hand.

“Don’t ask about the dress or where I’ve been, okay? Like I said when I called, I lost my purse, and I just need a ride to my apartment.”

Jade nods and shifts the car into gear, and we pull away from the curb, the streetlights casting fleeting patterns across the sleek dashboard. We drive through the city as it transitions from day to night and the last rays of the sun fade into the inky-blue sky.

I should feel relieved to be back. And I do. For the most part. But this isn’t the warm welcome I imagined. The city feels different, harsher, as if I’ve been gone for years instead of days. The familiar streets seem cold, the sounds more jarring. It’s as if the city has changed in the days I was gone. Or perhaps I have.

I shift my focus to Jade, but her face, a perfect copy of Marion’s, makes my heart squeeze. She and I have never had the same closeness I shared with Marion. With Jade, it’s all business. Friendship is earned like a medal—through achievements.

“I have to be honest,” Jade begins, her voice cutting through the steady drone of the tires on asphalt, “I was worried when you didn’t call or come in this morning. I get not coming in on Friday. We all expected that you would need a mental health day to recover, which is why I didn’t Slack or email.” She flips on the turn signal and slips smoothly into the next lane. “Last week’s presentation doesn’t have to be how your time at Posh Pulse ends. At least, not unless you want it to be.”

“No, I’ll go back. I want to go back. Wait for another opportunity like LuminaLuxe…” I stare out the window, watching the city lights rush past, my thoughts drifting to Towerfall. To Kane, to Marion, to the feeling that Pentacles was on the brink of making a change that could have meant the difference between suffering and salvation. Something bigger than convincing women to buy beauty products they don’t actually need.

“And nail it?” Jade prompts, her voice pulling me back to the present.

I mentally shake myself, clearing my throat. “Yeah. I’ll nail it.” I manage a smile and hope she doesn’t sense the doubt creeping through the cracks of my resolve.

Jade returns my grin, briefly glancing over at me before returning her gaze to the road. “Then Stephanie won’t be the only one with a new office.”

The mention of Stephanie makes my stomach churn. My mind flashes to Ivy and how much more damage she can cause in Towerfall than my office nemesis ever can with petty work politics. Together, she and Four are the ultimate villains, their influence spreading like a dark stain throughout the kingdom.

“I think I just gave up the chance to do something that mattered,” I mutter, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

Jade’s smile fades. “What do you mean?”

I shake my head, forcing a grin that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

But it’s not nothing.

The Empress heats against my skin, shooting pinpricks of energy through my chest along with the nagging feeling that I’ve left something important unfinished.

Jade glances at me, her brow furrowed. “You know, Hannah, without realizing it, you understand people. What they want, how they feel. You’re naturally nurturing and caring, but you internalize everyone else’s emotions. As a fellow empath, I get it, but can I give you some advice it took me far too long to figure out myself?”

I nod, afraid that if I speak, the floodgates will open.

“To survive, to thrive in the corporate world, you have to swallow your feelings and learn to use your empath magick , for lack of a better way to put it, to build a story for the client.”

“You mean lie.”

“I mean manipulate. It’s not lying.” She scoffs. “It’s just good business.”

“And if I don’t want to use my magick for manipulation?”

“Then I don’t know.” She throws up her hands, but the car still manages to stay between the lines. “Find something you can impact while still being yourself. What’s your dream? What’s the light at the end of Hannah’s tunnel?”

“At this point, there are so many shadows, I can’t even see the light.” I press my forehead against the cool glass, watching the city slip by. Each passing block feels like it’s taking me farther from the world where, despite everything, I started to belong.