Chapter Nine

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All things considered, Alice felt surprised at how refreshed she appeared in the mirror. True, some of it was an illusion from a turtleneck covering her neck and concealer masking the small scrapes and bruises, yet her face glowed and her shoulders no longer hunched like a beaten dog's.

Each breath sent a dull ache throughout her throat, but it also left her deliciously sore nipples rubbing against the fabric of her bra, and while her body ached from being jolted by a car, it had also held onto that shivering awareness that came from spending hours twined with someone else. If she had woken up alone, still convinced of having her mother's madness, she would have turned away from the sun and burrowed back beneath the blankets. Instead, she felt ready to at least try facing the world.

She remembered the layout of the kitchen well enough to start a pot of coffee without trouble, hoping the smell would wake up the rest of the house. At the moment, that meant only her parents. In those first, blurry hours after the car accident, Denise had explained that they'd sent Alice's half sister to a friend's house in case they needed to spend the night at the hospital. Alice probably wouldn't even see Fleur before she left with Colton.

The realization didn't give her as sharp a pang as she'd expected. But then, she'd never had a close relationship with Fleur—too many years between them, and Alice had frankly enjoyed her baby sister taking all her parents' attention. Cooing over Fleur meant less worrying over Alice, and she'd appreciated that. Yet, seething jealousy was a strange sort of bond, itself, and the lack of it or any other had left Alice viewing her sister with the same distance as she often experienced with her parents. That feeling of somehow being different. Separate from them.

Witch girl.

Even as a swirl of steam rose into her face from pouring the coffee, Alice shivered. Had that been the true cause of that sense of isolation? Had she unconsciously sensed herself to in fact be different? She hoped Colton knew just how many questions she'd pepper him with once they were alone.

Just as the sky brightened with true sunlight, footsteps drifted down from the ceiling. From the soft tread, Alice guessed it was her stepmother, and took out the almond milk along with a second cup. Then she drank from her own cup, hip cocked against the honey-colored cabinets as she leaned against the counter and waited.

In a few minutes, Denise appeared in the kitchen, dressed in a fuzzy, pink robe and with her hair pulled back in a messy bun. "Alice? Are you all right?"

"Everything's fine. I just felt ready to get up."

Denise nodded while shuffling over to the coffee pot, but her expression remained troubled. "No one expects you to jump out of bed right away. It's not even seven, and the doctor told us over and over that you'd need a lot of rest for the next two weeks."

"I feel great. Really." Alice didn't even have to work to keep the words relaxed. She wondered what it said about her that being fucked senseless left her calm and cheerful in a way that nothing else ever had.

"Maybe, but you aren't. You almost died yesterday, sweetheart."

Twice over, in fact. Perhaps that was why she now felt so alive for all that she did nothing more than sip at her coffee. The taste tingled on the back of her tongue; the heat lingered along her throat. The grass and bushes outside looked very green, every leaf defined and glittering, and the family of jays calling to each other sounded like raucous shouts to wake up the rest of the world. There was nothing dull to her senses, nothing too small to absorb.

"Why don't I make us some smoothies?" Denise's voice sounded overly cheerful, and Alice realize she'd never responded. "The doctor sent home a sheet of recommended food while you're healing up. I'm sure I can mix together a few of those."

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