“Coal?” Kris is on his feet, watching me like he thinks I’ll leap out the window or start screaming or maybe both.
“He’s bluffing.” I whirl on Kris, relief and desperation andstupidity,how could I have been sostupid,again.
But it wasn’t stupid to fear my father.
It wasn’t stupid to protect my brother, to protect Hex.
I wasn’t stupid.
Kris frowns. “Who?”
“Dad. He’s bluffing. He won’t let anything out against Halloween. He won’t say anything against anyone. All these threats—it’s abluff.He’s manipulating us because he knows we all fear the repercussions enough that the mere mention of it keeps everyone in line. But you know what? I thinkhefears the repercussions too.”
I tear my hands through my hair. And Ismile.It’s deranged and pushes Iris out of the bed, fingers splayed; both she and Kris emanate concern.
“What are you saying?” Kris asks.
“I’m saying”—I can’t breathe—“I’m saying that I’m not going to write those damn letters.”
Kris’s brows shoot up.
“The winter Holidays will come here. And we’ll stand up to Dad.And we’llchange things.Because he won’t release any of the blackmail he has on people. I’m calling his bluff.”
“It’s a big risk,” Kris says. Not like he’s scared. Like he’s worried I’m not thinking straight.
“It is.”
“It was yesterday too.” He takes a small step forward.
“Yesterday, IknewDad was going to hit you.” My breath comes out stunted. “Iknewhe’d hurt Hex. I hadn’t considered that he wouldn’t follow through.”
“And now?” Kris’s mouth starts to lift. A smile? Encouraging, maybe, and it lets me breathe easier.
“And now, I’ll dare him to. I’ll be there to protect you, I’d take the hit—but I know he won’t do it. Iknowhe won’t do it.”
Kris closes the space and throws his arm around my neck. “Good,” he says into my shoulder. “Good.”
“Are you—” Iris’s voice catches. “Are you sure, Coal?”
That reorients me in a jolting swivel, a satellite coming back online. Kris steps aside, and my manic fluttering grinds to a halt and I look into Iris’s eyes.
“I know Dad’s already made the announcement that you didn’t choose Halloween,” I tell her. “And everyone knows our wedding is happening now. But, fuck, Iris—I can’t. We never could. Our original plan doesn’t have to change: we could still try to bring Easter into the collective if we can convince your dad of it, we could still make it so you don’t look at fault for anything—”
She holds up her hand. “I can honestly say,” she starts, takes a quaking breath, and her eyes tear, “that for the first time in a very long time, I don’t give ashitwhat my court does. I asked if you were sure, Coal, because if you are, then I am too. I’m still with you.”
My face explodes in a grin but I cup one hand over my ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that middle bit.”
She flattens her gaze at me. “I said if you’re sure, then—”
“Not that. One back.”
Her eyes go to the ceiling. “I don’t give a shit what my court does.”
I glance at Kris, lips screwed up. “Did you hear that?”
He shakes his head, all feigned confusion, a stifled smile. “Hear what? Was Iris talking?”
“I do not give a shit what my court does,” Iris snaps, practically shouts, and she may have started to say it in exasperation, but by the time she’s done, she’s gasping. She scrubs quickly at her eyes and rights herself, but it’s too late to cover her look of abrupt relief, a weight tipping sideways to allow her a full breath.
