Return to the Isle of the Lost - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,8

Cinderella’s hardworking mice were the most popular upgrade). Even though she’d only signed up a few weeks ago, Evie already had a lot of “subjects” and enjoyed collecting their “bows.”

Evie much preferred InstaRoyal to ZapChat, its grungier counterpart, which was all about sharing glimpses of Auradon’s less-than-perfect side: photos of the tourney team chugging pumpkin juice, for instance, or embarrassing pictures of princesses kissing frogs—and not the type that turned into handsome princes like Prince Naveem either. She was scrolling through her royal feed when her phone began shaking in her hand as the floor rumbled with another earthquake, and she accidentally tapped on a photo. It was one that Doug had posted earlier from band practice that he’d captioned Feeling Dopey!

She texted him, Hey, did you feel that? Shake, rattle, and roll….Unlike Mal, she’d gotten used to the occasional rumble.

Evie went back to her zapps and checked the comments on her photos to see if there were any new ones. In Auradon, the compliments were always plentiful and kind. Oooh, there was a new one on an old photo she’d posted of the four of them standing together and facing down Maleficent during the attack at the Coronation. This was the moment when they had defeated the evil fairy with the power of good.

It had run in the Auradon Times and it was one of Evie’s favorite pictures, so she’d re-posted it to her account. There was something so inspiring about seeing them bravely standing together while facing the great dragon face of Maleficent. It reminded Evie that even if they were from the Isle of the Lost, they were just as good and courageous as the princes and princesses they went to school with, and that during Auradon’s darkest hour, it was the four villain kids who had been able to keep everyone safe.

She found the new comment and read it eagerly. To her surprise, it wasn’t very nice at all and had been posted by a user she didn’t follow.

There’s no place for you in Auradon! Go back where you belong! Return to the Isle of the Lost at once! Before the young moon shows its face! it read.

Ouch. That was rude. And weird. What was the deal with the moon?

She was still staring at the screen when Doug appeared at her doorway. “What’s up? Ready to grab a bite?” he asked, looking adorable in a bow tie and suspenders. He made the same funny face that he’d posted to his InstaRoyal feed.

Doug was no prince, but a prince for her own heart. He was the sweetest, nicest boyfriend a girl could ever ask for, and he could dance like nobody’s business.

“Sure!” Evie said cheerfully, putting away her phone for now. She was still upset by the mean comment, but a girl had to eat. Evie knew she would feel much better on a full stomach and she could show the comment to Mal later. Mal would know what to do about it; she always did.

Speaking of Mal, she entered the room just as Evie and Doug were about to leave. “Evie! Glad I caught you. I need to show you something!”

“Oh, Mal, I have something to show you too, but we were just about to go grab dinner,” Evie said apologetically.

“No, this can’t wait,” Mal said, shoving past Doug. “Eat later.” Her green eyes were flashing dangerously and it was obvious that she was particularly annoyed. Evie hadn’t seen Mal act this way since they’d first arrived in Auradon, when she’d scowled at everything. Even if she was in a rush, Mal shuddered at the sunlight streaming through the open window and closed the pink curtains once more, just like she had done on the first day.

Some things never changed.

Evie looked nervously at Doug, who had his eyebrows raised. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up later,” she told him. Somehow she’d already lost her appetite.

“Whatever it is, I can help….” he offered, because that was the kind of guy he was.

Mal rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Sorry, Doug, but I have to talk to Evie privately. This isn’t about mining jewels.”

“As you wish. See you later, Evie,” said Doug, who promptly left them alone, whistling as he went.

“So what’s up?” asked Evie, turning to Mal and walking over to sit at her sewing machine. Doing something with her hands always calmed her down during stressful times.

Mal didn’t answer immediately. She watched as Evie carefully pushed fabric under the needle. “Is that your