“Victus and I must look like awful people to you, Kricket,” Charisma says to me in a melancholy tone. I turn my gaze upon her; my emotions over what I’m hearing are a jumbled mess. I don’t know what to think or feel. I say the first thing that comes to mind. “It just feels bad right now because your secret’s out. But it can’t be as bad as it was before, can it? It’s not like having your love be an unspeakable thing that you carry around—something you can only daydream about—about the places you’d go with him if you could—the things you’d do—the person you’d be with him. You no longer have to
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