FIFTY | A BLACK ROSE

My phone felt like lead in my pocket as we recounted Toby’s attack to Aradia and Ezrand. They listened intently, wearing identical, worried expressions that pulled their mouths into grim lines and narrowed their eyes.

I’d replied to Skye’s message before we’d come inside, but we’d not had a chance to talk properly yet. He was with Pera, and I had responsibilities of my own. As such, we’d agreed to meet on Monday afternoon, straight after school, in the Hawthorn Central Library. It gave us a safe place to discuss Pera’s attack – and Toby’s – and also provided the perfect opportunity for us to approach Herb.

Ezrand heaved out a sigh, leaning forwards and pressing his elbows against the kitchen table. He held his chin in his upturned hands, and slumped his shoulders dramatically. His patterned shirt was too bright for the conversation, dotted with pink palm trees and neon green seagulls.

“It’s getting worse, Ar,” he muttered, the top of his head moving up and down in a freakish, comedic