morning, as they did every day. Cinnamon cakes drizzled with cherry honey, and laughter over the mess. Warmth filled Kallia, and she relaxed as Lucina began combing back strands of hair from her face.
“While you were rehearsing, I was in the corner sewing up the last touches to your costume for tonight, like usual,” Lucina went on, her voice as dramatic as her dress. “And all of a sudden, you had this grand idea to go vertical the wrong way, before it all came tumbling down. Literally.”
Jack rubbed a hand over his face. “Thank you for the fifth recounting of that story.”
“Well, somebody had to tell her.” The girl sat back on her heels, haughtily inspecting her nails over her lap. “Not as though she’d remember on her own.”
Remember.
Kallia’s eyes squinted as though she were still waking up. The throbbing at the back of her head lightened, but something was missing. A lot, from the gaps in her mind. The strange void in her heart.
A palm rested on her kneecap.
“How are you doing, firecrown?” Jack’s voice warmed her, an anchor reeling her back into place. “Can you remember anything?”
Remember.
“Why would you ask that?” Kallia snapped. Her brow crinkled at how the words had flown out like fire, a question that didn’t quite feel like hers.
“I mean—” Heat burned her cheeks at the tense quiet that fell. Get ahold of yourself. “You know what happened already.”
“Ah. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” The doctor rose with a wan smile. “Just be careful next time. You’re lucky you weren’t hurt worse.”
Kallia nodded, staring off into the room as their voices played a casual melody above her. The doctor’s clearance of health, Jack’s gruff worry regardless. Lucina’s endless interjections, more emphatic than necessary.
A peace swept over Kallia, the first calm she’d felt since waking, until she caught her eyes in the mirrored wall.
A web of jagged cracks flashed across her mind.
Just as suddenly, when she blinked, the surface remained flawlessly smooth. Unbroken.
Always think first before trusting your reflection.
Jack had taught her that.
When had he first said it?
The lesson floated to the surface of her thoughts like a small piece of the day freed from the blackness of the fall. It felt more true than what she saw, the group of people gathered around her in the scene playing against her reflection.
Some mirrors are like windows designed to be more convincing than others.
The lesson unfurled faster with a ringing pain, a fracture splitting wider, allowing more words in. Her memory, returning in little fragments. She grasped at them, names and faces blurred before, now clearing at the forefront.
Sanja. Mistress Verónn.
Mari.
A monstrous face, waiting in the dark.
“Kallia?”
She jerked her gaze back to the group, heart pounding. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Are you well enough to perform tonight?” Jack asked, walking over to her. He offered her his hands. “You don’t have to if you don’t want. You seem—”
“No, I’m fine. I…” She didn’t want to take his hand. Didn’t want to believe it, but in his face she knew so well, she saw a tenderness that didn’t belong. That waiting carefulness, as though he were placing the last cards on top of a house of them, willing them to stay in place.
He was a dealer of memories, after all.
Her vision wavered in violent thrums until the room pulsed around her, shrinking. The rage so familiar, like a memory itself. And betrayal, swallowing her from the inside.
Kallia looked down at her feet, the backs of her eyes smarting. She couldn’t let him see. Couldn’t let anything fall. For if she was the house of cards, she couldn’t let him knock everything down just to rebuild. All those delicate pieces around her needed to stay. She needed to stay.
The hot knot pulling in her throat cooled, her heart steeled over. Until she whittled that scream of pain inside into a harsh whisper. Do not let it out, do not let it out.
She composed her features, swallowing hard before taking his hands. The grooves of his brass knuckles pressed into her skin as she rose. “Of course I want to perform.”
“I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard.”
Kallia cocked her head, her teeth clenched beneath a pout. “Sweet of you to underestimate me.” Her nails bit slightly into his skin as she laced her fingers within his. She lifted their hands and gave an experimental spin. “See? I can dance just fine.”
Silently, Jack twisted her back to him. He slid his right hand through her hair, to the back of