Page 26 of Coveted

My education, being paid for by the college.

If I want anyone to take me seriously, I need to apply myself beyond expectations. Arriving on time is the least I can do.

“It won’t happen again,” I say, praying Lucan won’t make a liar out of me.

“I’m Professor Worthington,” he says. “And you are?”

“Sadie Marlowe.”

“Ah.” He looks at me speculatively while I try not to squirm. “Yes, I read your submissions. Rather good. But very… safe.”

My throat goes dry. “Safe?”

“Indeed. You’re talented, Miss Marlowe. You’ve had a few stories published, won a few prizes. But so what? Plenty of people are talented. It’s frightfully common. Do you know what I saw in your stories?”

“No, Professor?”

“A girl stunted and afraid. You must get out into the world. Experience life. Grow. Take risks. I expect more from you on the page. Oodles more.”

“I understand,” I say.

Stunted and afraid? God, maybe that’s true.

After everything that happened with Mom and Russell, my life shrank and shrank. Keeping to myself felt safer. I shied away from going out with friends, dating men, or trying anything new. I just wanted peace.

Maybe my solitude turned into stagnation though. A creative’s worst enemy.

For the past two years, I’ve been working on a retelling of Beauty and the Beast. But I stop and start, unable to get the main character’s voice right. It’s like tuning a radio and failing to catch a clear signal.

What if trying to retell an old tale is the problem? If I want to feel inspired, I might need to concentrate on creating original material instead.

Professor Worthington looks around the table. “Abandon safeness, all ye who enter, and watch how you thrive! Now, let’s begin in earnest. Students, I’d like you to share one fact with the person next to you that you hoped to take to the grave. This isn’t a place for cowards.”

With rigid shoulders, I turn to the girl on my right. She looks as alarmed as I feel, and we break into relieved smiles. She has inquisitive eyes and silver-beaded braids.

“You’re nervous too, huh?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say.

“I’m Zahra.”

“Sadie. Nice to meet you.”

As I speak, I notice a displaced page in the notebook Lucan snatched from me outside. When I leaf to the spot, I find a handwritten message on a loose piece of paper.

Meet me tonight at Altar. Eight o’clock.

“What’s Altar?” I ask Zahra.

She glances at the message in my hand.

“A private bar in Ember Falls,” she says. “Very exclusive.”

My brow furrows. “Private bar?”

“Owned by a Darkbloom secret society. Altar is one of their main haunts.”

“Sounds sketchy.”