“You know how I feel about this, so I won’t linger on it. I’ve said my piece, and now it’s up the Triad. Not to me. I know you’ve worked hard to get here and it couldn’t have gone to a more deserving person, Penelope. No matter how foolish it may seem.”
Did she just say that to me? That’s approval, the kind only given in Gran’s way. Well, not complete approval, but support. I smile, I can’t help it, and launch myself up into her arms. It happens so quickly that she doesn’t expect it either, but she hugs me back, and we stand there that way for an eternity, or at least a few seconds that feel like an eternity.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She unlocks her arms from around me. “Don’t be so shocked, Penelope,” she says. “I can honor hard work; I just wish it had gone toward a different goal. I don’t understand your desire, especially considering what you’re lacking, but I don’t have to understand. I will never love it, but I love you, and if you make it to the end, you have my support.”
I exhale. “Why couldn’t you tell me that from the beginning?”
Gran’s eyes narrow on me as she lowers herself into a seat. “I wanted you to know what you were risking, and I didn’t want to encourage you to go down a dangerous road. Maybe I thought you’d change your mind, but you haven’t. I didn’t know you would even make it this far without magic; passing that last test was a miracle, Penelope, but here we are.”
I pause because wow. It’s one thing for Gran to think that; it’s another thing for her to say it. She didn’t think I’d get here, even though I’ve put in so much work.
We’re both silent for a moment, and I should tell her about Carter. I should tell her that he’s the reason I passed, not Connie, and about the demon and everything else that’s happened. Especially considering what I found about Alfie Spencer, she would know more about him than me.
“Gran,” I start, “do you know an Alfie Spencer?”
Gran rises from the table. Her eyes dart around the room. “When is the Pairing ceremony?” She moves toward the calendar.
“Sunday,” I say. I still can’t believe this is her reaction. I thought for sure I was roasted. Or at the very least, toasted. I watch while she scribbles notes on the calendar.
“Alfie Spencer, Gran?”
“Never heard of him,” she says. She throws the pen on the table and walks toward the door to the kitchen. I raise an eyebrow and Gran looks over her shoulder. “You better get a dress.”
“Gran—”
“Penelope, don’t.”
She’s gone before I can speak again, and her reaction is enough to tell me that she does know the name Alfie Spencer. And whatever it is, she doesn’t want me to know.
Chapter Eleven
Connie, Thomas, Ric, and I walk in a line down the path in the mall. We’ve already been through the whole left side, but nothing is acceptable by Connie’s standards for my dress, and then when she likes it, I don’t. I hate dresses. Ric, however, has bought two suits for the Pairing, claiming he’ll decide the day of which one he wanted to wear. “I like options.”
“We’ll find something,” Connie says as we leave another store.
“Totally. There will be something in this mall for you,” Ric says in agreement, but I shrug. I don’t really think we will. I refuse to wear anything pink, anything puffy, and anything that makes noise when I walk. This whole ceremony is sort of a ridiculous party where they make a big deal out of introducing us to our partners. The only ceremony that matters is the next one where I get my badges. The rest of this is just for show, especially because Enforcers would never wear dresses or suits on the job.
I’d rather be doing something that matters, like spending my Saturday at the library looking up information about Alfie Spencer. Gran’s reaction from Thursday still sits wrong with me.
“Oh, look,” Connie says, pointing into a store window. The dress is bright red and short and low-cut. I shake my head and Thomas grabs Connie’s hand. His fingers are wrapped around hers, and this little twinge of jealousy seeps through me. I hope someone holds my hand that way someday when he gives up a Saturday to dress shop at the mall with me for my sister.
I shake my head. Where did that come from? I’ve never wanted that.
“You okay?” Ric asks.
“I just want this to be over,” I say. And I do. I have a date with the library. Now that I’ve passed the magic test, the answers I’m looking for are even more important. The demon and Alfie are connected, and maybe if I figure out how then I can find the demon. I’m going to be Paired and then I’ll need magic that’s my own. My future depends on the Restitution.
We walk into another shop, and divide and conquer. Ric and I take one end of the women’s section; Connie and Thomas take the other. We’ll meet in the middle with anything we like and decide if there’s a keeper. There’s usually not.
I dig through a round rack of dresses. Blue, purple, red, pink, but I do not want to wear that. Ric whistles and holds up a black dress with a long slit up the side. I shake my head.
“It’s hot,” he says.
“Yeah, if you are a supermodel,” I say.
At the thought of supermodels, I think about Carter and his smile. He could be a model with that smile. I’d buy whatever he was selling.
I check my phone for a missed call, but nothing. I’d texted Carter twice to thank him for coming to the Nucleus House, but he never responded. Maybe he’s changed his mind about me. I don’t know if that thought makes me happy or sad.
“Penelope!” Connie yells. I look her way. She and Thomas are waving their hands in the air. People are staring as Thomas sings my name from across the store over and over. My face is hot, probably bright red before I even make it to them. Connie holds a dress. A sleeveless, metallic olive dress with a wraparound waist that puffs out around the knees.
I shake my head, but Ric grabs my shoulders. “That one, darlin’. Your dress.”
I shake my head. “No way I’m wearing that. It’s puffy.”
“You would be hot in this,” she says.
“Totally,” Ric says.
Thomas just stands there, not really having an opinion at all. I wish Ric were more like that—opinionless. He should not side with my sister over a dress.
“I don’t even want a stupid dress,” I say.
“Rules are rules, but you should look good when you meet him,” Connie says.
“This was made for you. Go put it on,” Ric says.
Connie holds it in the air. “You know you want to.” The fabric is glimmering and icy-slick under my hands. It is pretty, but no. I can’t wear that. Connie grabs my elbow and drags me along through more racks of clothes.
“You’re trying this on.”
She shoves me in a dressing room, and Ric holds the door shut so I can’t get out. I hate them both.
The way the dress shines under the glow of the bad lighting reminds me a bit of Carter’s eyes. I slip off my clothes, and try to decide if this is one of those moments that will define me. The dress slides smoothly over my chest and zips up the left side. I stare at myself for a second. I don’t look like me.
Connie pounds on the door. “Let us see you, hot stuff.”
I sigh and unlock the door. Thomas’s eyes get wide, Ric whistles, and Connie squeals when I step out, my toes sticking to the tile floor, the bottom of the dress tickling my kneecaps. A girl next to us looks over at me, then back to her reflection.
“You are totally buying that dress,” Ric says.
“You look hot, Penelope,” Connie says. She runs her hands across the waist and tightens the wraparound fabric. In the back, she ties it into a bow.