The Queen

I giggled, hopping and trying desperately to clutch it. “No fair!”

“Come on now.”

I could jump fairly well, though not in heels, and even with them on I was slightly shorter than he was. But I didn’t mind failing, because somewhere in my sad attempts, I felt an arm wrap around my waist.

Finally, he gave me my letter. As I suspected, it was from Adele. So many tiny happy things were piling into my day.

“You cut your hair.”

I pulled my gaze from the letter. “I did.” I grabbed a section and brought it over my shoulder. “Do you like it?”

There was something in his eyes—not quite mischief, not quite a secret. “I do. Very much.” With that he turned and walked down the hall, not even glancing back.

It was true I had an idea of who he was. Still, as I saw him in day-to-day life, I realized there was much more to him than what I’d seen on the Report. That knowledge didn’t seem daunting, though.

On the contrary, he was a mystery I was excited to solve.

I smiled and tore open the letter right there in the hallway, moving under a window for the sake of the light.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

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