Chapter 10

• Ayla Cross
• I braced myself and walked down the stairs, each step a quiet promise I might crumble. The room felt smaller the closer I came to the crowd — a pressure of eyes, whispers, and a hunger for spectacle. My pulse skittered. What if Lyric was right? Dante had been one of the worst — the kind of boy who enjoyed turning fear into a performance — and I had finally called him out. If Zane hadn’t stepped between us, I’d already know what it felt like to be broken. I owed Zane for that, even if his protection always came with a price I didn’t like paying.
• At the bottom of the stairwell I met a wall of accusing faces. Mr. Thorn was nowhere to be seen; it was like he’d been swallowed by the building. Mrs. Lau’s words cut across the hush like ice. “What did you bring here, Ayla?” Her voice trembled but carried. “Ever since you arrived, these attacks have grown worse. It’s as if you dragged them with you.”