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“Sit down,” he says, a violent, unguarded rage flashing in his eyes. Delalieu obeys. “How long?” I say again. “How long have you known her as Ella?” “I— I’ve”—Delalieu hesitates, looks around—“I’ve known Ella s-since she was a child,” he says finally.
Honesty get over it. Obvioulsy there is going to be people who knew about ella. No need to yell at poor delalieu.
When is your birthday?” Slowly, Aaron looks up at me. His face is blank even as he says, “April twenty-fourth.”
I can’t look at her face anymore without feeling blind rage. I can’t even think her name without feeling a violent, potent, animalistic need to murder her with my bare hands. Evie Sommers is the worst kind of human being. A traitor to humanity. An unadulterated sociopath.
“Right,” Aaron says, hesitating, “but you don’t actually love us both. That’s just a figure of speech, isn’t it?” It’s my turn to frown. “Kenji is my best friend,” I say. “I love him like a brother.” “But—” “I love you, too, princess,” Kenji says, a little too loudly. “And I appreciate you saying that.” Aaron mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, “Unwashed idiot.”
“Then why were you so angry?” “I thought you were stupid for doing it here,” he says. “Right now. I didn’t want you to do something you would regret. That you’d both regret.” “Why would I regret proposing right now? This seems as good a time as any.” Kenji laughs, but somehow manages to keep his mouth closed.

