Chapter 5.2

“Did the humans put a man on the moon? I died before the rocket launched.”

“So they say,” I muttered as I remembered the footage on television. “But the footage looked like the work of a light mage.”

Larissa barked a laugh. “Stupid humans.”

I chose a selection of outfits, from work clothes—because who knew what the mission would entail—to tight-fitting dresses that resembled what the twins had worn during their date with Griff. I paused, waiting for the surge of hot rage to burn through my insides the way it usually did whenever I thought about the flea-ridden wolf. Instead, my heart filled with the warmth of my connection with Beki.

As we loaded the last of our choices and zipped our cases shut, a curvaceous woman about my body’s height sauntered into the room, looking like a 1950s secretary with her red hair swept up in a chignon. Everyone had been talking about a movie called Grease around the time of my execution, and I wondered if she was dressed like that because she’d gotten swept