Semua Bab PRETEND PRINCESS: Bab 201 - Bab 210

Zara's POVI couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed so much. Zed had been telling the most ridiculous jokes while chopping vegetables, and Mum was drinking wine like she'd just won the lottery. The kitchen was warm, lively. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, and the smell of grilled salmon and seasoned rice filled the air. Zed had decided to cook for us today, and for whatever reason, that meant dancing to old 2000s hip-hop while seasoning meat like it was an Olympic sport.Mum was smitten with him. She was making me that face the entire time—eyebrows raised, lips drawn to the side—the universal mother face for: You don't let this one slip through your fingers.Zed was whistling as he plated the food. "I bet Zara punched boys at school," he said, grinning at me. "Had a list of who she was going to throttle next."I laughed but something tightened in my chest. My smile froze. I blinked at him, and the kitchen began to warp slightly. The bright yellow walls blurred. My chest c

Zara's POVI couldn't breathe.It was like the walls were drawing in, enclosing me, speaking my stepfather's voice into the gaps in the drywall. The fire of my dreams was still on my body—I could feel it licking at my ankles, the imagined heat creeping up my legs."Zara! You coming?" Zed yelled from the kitchen. He was making waffles. Waffles. With extra whipped cream. My absolute favorite, my mum had convinced him to make me breakfast and be her either me while she worked, it was like I was some eggshell, I wanted to just forget everything my past, every single thing.But instead, the scream that I kept trapped at the back of my mouth just longed to be unleashed. I went out into the front yard, trying to smile.Zed whirled around, plate extended, grin on his face. "Two waffles, no syrup, just like you like it. One for you, one for your mind."I smiled weakly, sitting opposite him. "You okay?" Zed asked voice breaking,he knew I wasn't I know he doesn't want to be pushed away.I bl

Yuki's POVIt was already noon when Creed and I finally reached an agreement. We'd be getting to Chicago early tomorrow morning, but not without stopping somewhere in between: I had to see Aunt Hannah."I can't leave without seeing her," I told Creed, sitting in the hotel room, light pouring through the glass windows and bouncing off of the metal edge of the suite. "She's the only family I have here."Creed nodded, sweeping his hair back with one hand. "I get it. Truly, I wouldn't be comfortable if you didn't."I grinned. "Thanks."There was a warmth to the air—maybe because I was ready at last. Ready to return to Chicago. Ready to stop running from the past and stop trying to piece myself back together in hidden ways. This was it. I was returning, not to view, but to rebuild. To remain.And maybe it was seeing Lily again. Or Suzu's inane barking. Or maybe just being in the same room where everything had gone so terribly wrong before and now could go right. But I knew I had to see thi

Zed's POVThere were few things I hated more than having my phone and Creed Malcolm's name on my recent calls. But today I had no option. None at all.Zara was losing her mind. Not the over-the-top, out-of-control sort of way she liked to throw around like confetti when life refused to go according to plan—this was different. This was terrifying. She was not herself. Her voice, usually so confident, so controlled, had become something feral, desperate, foreign.She'd locked herself in her room, weeping, wailing of fire and memories and pain. Her mother tried to reply from the other side of the door but broke down into tears instead, her knuckles softly tapping on wood, pleading for her to come out. I tried. God, I did try. But the Zara who'd looked at me with fire and defiance was not behind the door anymore.And when she said she'd cut herself just to feel something—just to stop feeling everything else—I knew this was too much for me to deal with.My pride shattered into a million sh

Lily's POVThe door was knocked on precisely when I was attempting to balance a bowl of ramen in one hand and a mango juice bottle in the other. I waddled—yes, waddled—to the door, muttering under the weight of a baby and full bladder I wouldn't indulge until after eating.I opened the door.And dropped the bowl.It erupted into a china and broth symphony, spilling steaming clumps of noodle onto my feet. But I didn't mind. I was frozen in terror, my heart suspended and then racing at an absurd pace."Yuki?" I whispered.He stood there, his hair styled to perfection in a sweeping-back brushedness, roots of darkness visible beneath the platinum tips, goofy heart-shaped sunglasses slung around his neck, and a grin that was all teeth and chaos.I blinked, once. Twice.Then I went for him.He pulled me quickly even with my belly in the way. We huddled together, body to body, trembling. I was crying before I was aware of it. Huge, fat, sloppy tears."Don't cry, you big waddle mama," Yuki er