The Glass Ballerina Who Danced On Knives

I see things that nobody else sees

Doing toggle pov again bc it's fun to write.

I was going to wait till friday to post this but I'm too excited(you'll see what I mean)!

Comment the title reference

Trinity pov

After school I wander into the kitchen. Avery's older sister is baking cupcakes. What's her name again? Oh right, Libby. Like her blue hair, the name is fun, and for some reason, fits her.

"Hi" she says, looking up from her mixing bowl "Trinity, right?"

I smile. "Right. What are you making?"

"Red velvet. Could I call you Trina?"

I'm about to say no, but something about it feels right. "Sure, and I love red velvet."

She smiles like that's the best thing anyone has ever said to her "Do you want to help?" she asks apprehensively.

It's not like I have anything better to do, and it's a distraction from crushing grief. " I'd love to." I replied.

Avery pov

We could be making something out of nothing," I said hours later. Jameson and I stood in the Hawthorne House library, looking up at the shelves circling the room, filled with books from the eighteen-foot ceiling to floor.

"Hawthorne-born or Hawthorne-made, there's always something to be played ." Jameson spoke with a singsong rhythm, like a child skipping rope. But when he brought his gaze down from the shelves to me, there was nothing childlike in his expression. "Everything is something in Hawthorne House."

Everything, I thought. And everyone.

"Do you know how many times in my life one of my grandfather's puzzles has sent me to this room?" Jameson turned slowly in a circle. "He's probably rolling in his grave that it took me this long to see it."

"What do you think we're looking for?" I asked.

"What do you think we're looking for, Heiress?" Jameson had a way of making everything sound like it was either a challenge or an invitation. Or both. Focus, I told myself. I was here because I wanted answers at least as much as the boy beside me did.

"If the clue is a book by its cover," I said, turning the riddle over in my mind "then I'd guess that we're looking for either a book or a cover—or maybe a mismatch between the two?"

"A book that doesn't match its cover?" Jameson's expression gave no hint of what he thought of that suggestion.

"I could be wrong."

Jameson's lips twisted—not quite a smile, not quite a smirk. "Everyone's a little wrong sometimes, Heiress."An invitation—and a challenge. I had no intention of being a little wrong—not with him. The sooner my body remembered that, the better. I physically turned away from Jameson to do a three-sixty, slowly taking in the scope of the room. Just looking up at the shelves felt like standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon. We were completely encircled by books, going up two stories.

"There must be thousands of books in here." Given how big the library was, given how high the shelves went up, if we were looking for a book mismatched to its cover sleeve..."This could take hours," I said.

Jameson smiled—with teeth this time. "Don't be ridiculous, Heiress. It could take days."

We worked in silence. Neither one of us left for dinner. A thrill ran through my body each time I realized that I was holding a first edition. Every once in awhile, I'd flip a book open to find it signed. Stephen King. J. K. Rowling. Toni Morrison.