What are you doing out here?” I demanded, trying to mask my weariness with annoyance. We had never been alone together before.
She stepped closer, and now I could see the scars more clearly. They disrupted her features greatly, the result of scabs and the ghosts of deep marks. I didn’t feel even a shred of guilt.
“I saw what you did,” she said, grinning a hideous smile. She now projected what was inside of her, so I deemed her new look as rather fitting, “you cursed that girl.”
I glared at her. “Just like I cursed you? Yeah, I know.”
“So you admit it,” she mused, prowling closer, her heels echoing against the corridor marble. She wore a black stress dusted in sparkles, elegant and gothic, her lipstick a blood red. Black diamond earrings dangled from her
