Sighing, I shook my head. “Nothing. Um, I stopped by to chat education.”
“Ah,” Yasmin mused, a smug smile tugging at her lips. “Riley mentioned you might, though he thought you would’ve done it weeks ago. I told him you wouldn’t.”
I watched as she made her way between the rows of desks, collecting the books left behind.Tell me how you really feel.Promising Riley I would try with her was one thing, dealing with her in practice was different. Even if I’d come to know her outside of Mohammed or Riley, we’d still never be best friends. We were too … different. And I rarely enjoyed her self-satisfied attitude.
“Why would you think that?” I questioned, genuinely curious for why she thought she could read me. She didn’t know anything about me outside of her partners.
“Pride.” She answered as though it were obvious. “Such as in our book, Amaia, pride is a funny, dangerous thing. He kept faith in you though, and here you are.”
“I’m going to go. This was a mistake?—”
“No, I’m sorry. Wait.” Yasmin dropped the stack of books on her desk and strode toward me. In her long stride she reached me within a few steps, latching onto my wrist. “We should try to at least be able to work together for the sake of Riley.”
“Sure.” I yanked my arm free, my patience wearing thin.
“So?”
“So what, Yasmin?” I snapped, the edge in my voice sharper than I intended.
“The reason you came here.”
“Right,” I muttered, already regretting this.
“Actually, before you say anything, there’s something I want to show you.” Yasmin gestured toward a set of paintings toward the far wall. Paintings hung like a silent gallery. She walked over and motioned for me to follow. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”
I forced a nod, my gaze sliding over the brushstrokes. “Uh, yeah. A lot of talent around The Compound, I see.” They were beautiful, but they weren’t exactly Picasso. I played along, humoring her, unable to shake the sense that something wasn’t right.
Yasmin nodded proudly before moving to a nearby closet. She pulled out a few more canvases, laying them carefully acrossthe desks. I watched, my confusion growing as I scanned the paintings.
I moved closer. My stomach turned as I stared at one in particular—a chaotic swirl of jagged lines and smudges, the image so twisted it was hard to tell what it even was. Until you did. Then it was clear as the sky on a perfectly sunny day.
“What’s this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The horror was unmistakable in my tone.
Yasmin leaned in, her eyes glinting with something I couldn’t place. No. I could.Concern.“That one’s from one of my evening students. She’s ten.”
“Is she a new arrival?”
“No.” Yasmin lowered her voice, hesitation at words she itched to release from the tip of her tongue. “She’s aSeer.”
“What?” I ground out.
Yasmin bowed her head, kicking her sneakers one foot over the other. “Her parents asked me not to disclose.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You’re not that damn stupid, Yasmin.”
She reached across the little space there was between us and covered my mouth. “Shh. Lower your voice.”
I almost punched her. “Aren’t you a mandatory reporter or something?” I asked, smacking her hand away.
“This isn’t The Before. My only obligation is to keep the trust of these kids.”
Various insults formed on my lips but I thought better of it.For Riley.For Riley. For Riley.I reminded myself. I pinched my hands in front of my face, forcing myself to center. “I understand that and commend you for it, truly. But there’s a reason why we document magic, Yasmin. That’s a hell of a gift with no guidance.”
“And who’s going to help her?” Yasmin, however, chose not to hide the disdain in her voice. “Tomoe?”
“Yes. Or literally anyone on The Council. This is a big thing, she needs mentorship.”
She brushed me off. Dismissing me as though she had the authority to do so. “We can talk about this later, that’s not what I’m trying to show you.”
