CHAPTER THREE: THE PRICE OF ESCAPE

Gwen POV

The next day, I was at the car booth before the sky had even cleared properly.

The morning air was cold and grey, and the whole place smelled of damp metal and old coffee. I clutched the envelope tightly against my chest. There was no way I could return it to Alexander now. So my plan was simple. Escape this city before Alexander found me, before all of this blew up in my face.

I was also, slowly, getting used to this new body. It was strange to catch my reflection in the booth window and see someone so striking looking back. Gwen was stunning. No wonder she had so many suitors in the story. And yet, out of all of them, she chose Alexander.

*Focus, Gwen.*

"Gwen. Chill."

Staci's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She was staring at me with a crease between her brows. She could see the tension written all over my face, and it was impossible to hide it.

"Why are we here again, Staci?" I asked, mostly to distract myself.

"Because this is the only car booth that can take you where you're trying to go. Where was it again?"

"Wizard Frey."

Her eyes twitched in confusion. She turned all the way to face me.

"Why do you want to see a wizard?"

I didn't answer right away.

"Gwen, we've known each other forever. Like, forever. But lately it feels like I don't know you."

I stared at her, and something inside my chest tightened. She was right. I wasn't the same Gwen. I wasn't Gwen at all. But I couldn't tell her that, could I? How do you tell the only friend you have that she's been talking to a stranger?

"I'm fine, Staci," I said softly. "I just need to see the wizard."

"Why?" she demanded. She wanted answers, and I could see how much it hurt her that I wouldn't give them. But I couldn't trust her. I couldn't trust anyone yet. Not in a world where the people closest to you could end up being the ones who sold you out.

"Move in, guys!" the conductor called, and for once I was grateful for the interruption. It was a perfect escape from that conversation. I forced a smile.

"I'll have to go now, Staci. But we'll catch up."

She smiled back, a little sadly. "Let me help you with your bags."

I nodded and stepped toward the entrance, but I was stopped before I could even set a foot inside.

"This ticket is invalid."

The conductor's words hit us both like a slap. Staci and I froze.

"What?" I breathed. "What do you mean?"

He looked serious. Too serious. I grabbed the ticket from his hand and stared at it, and he was right. It was fake. The paper was cheap, the stamp was smudged, and I could feel my stomach sinking as I understood. We had been scammed.

I turned to Staci, my heart rate already spiking.

"How did this happen?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know, Gwen?"

I turned back to the conductor, my voice small. "What do we do now, sir?"

"Run back and get another one. And be fast. We leave in twenty-nine minutes."

I nodded, and Staci and I ran to the ticket sale, our footsteps echoing across the station. Staci stayed at my side while I dug through my purse and fumbled with the envelope, trying to pull out enough cash for a new ticket. My fingers wouldn't cooperate. Twenty-nine minutes felt like twenty-nine seconds.

I counted the notes in a rush, and when I lifted my head, I saw him.

Every part of me went cold.

I immediately ducked behind Staci and tried to shrink myself small, though I knew it was ridiculous. Staci was tall, but I was not exactly a small person in this body.

"Oh my fucking lord," I whispered.

"What, Gwen?"

"It's him."

"Who?"

"Alexander is here."

Staci gasped. And just like that, I knew she'd been right about everything, and so had the book. Alexander always found his traitors. It was never a matter of if. It was only a matter of when.

"What do we do now?" Staci asked, her voice thin.

I never got the chance to answer. His dark eyes found me across the crowded station, and for a moment, my heart simply stopped.

I didn't wait for Staci to say anything else. I turned, held my purse tight against me, and sprinted for the door.

But his men were already there. Tall, dark figures in tailored suits, blocking the exit like a wall. I swerved at the last second and bolted for the bathroom. This time, I was really going to jump out of that window.

I slammed the door behind me and leaned against it, my chest heaving. My hands shook so badly I could barely hold on to the bag.

*I need to escape with this money.*

*I need to get back to the real world. My baby brother needs me. He has no one.*

I couldn't die in this story. I couldn't die as another woman, in another woman's life, and leave him waiting for me. The thought of him sitting at the door, looking out the window, wondering why I never came home, nearly made my knees give way.

I looked up. There it was. A window, just the right size. I could fit through it.

Before I could take even one step toward it, a fist smashed through the door behind me and grabbed me by the arm.

The door shattered. I was yanked out, and I landed hard on the cold floor, the breath knocked out of me. My hands scraped against the tile. My long dark hair had fallen across my face and tangled around my lips, and when I finally lifted my head and pushed it back, it was Alexander standing over me.

He didn't smile. He didn't even flinch. He only stared down at me with eyes that gave away nothing at all, and somehow that was so much worse than anger.

"No one runs from me," he said quietly.

He pulled me up by my wrists and started dragging me.

"Let me go! You're hurting my wrists!"

But my words fell on deaf ears. He didn't slow down. He didn't look back. He pulled me through the station, past the staring faces and the whispering crowd, as though I weighed nothing, until he pushed through a door and into a room full of men in dark tailored suits.

They stood around the walls in silence, all of them watching.

Alexander threw me into the middle of them.

I fell to the ground, still clutching my purse like it was the last thing keeping me alive. And when I looked up, fear wrapped around me so tightly I couldn't breathe.

I looked at Alexander. He stood with his hands in his pockets, perfectly calm, like a king overlooking his court.

Then he lifted one hand and pointed at me with a single finger.

"This is her," he said. "The lady who stole my money."