“Hey, demon spawn!” someone yells in the hallway as Keva, Bri and I make our way to Lore class. A rotten apple skims my face and splatters against the wall. “That’s foul,” Keva says, covering her nose at the sweet yet pungent smell that’s sprayed over me. I swing around just in time to see a knig...
Keva asks me as I join her and Jack in the Freshmen pews. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I answer back, shifting uncomfortably on the bench. “Come on, you can tell me,” she says, wheedling. But no matter how much she prods, pleads, or threatens me, I keep my mouth shut. Owen’s plight is not min...