She ached with the effort to hold her darkest self under her control. A renegade naked shadow was the last thing everyone here needed. And after the scene in the kitchen when Marcie died two nights ago . . . Let go, shadow Ellie, Cam had said. Let Marcie go free. Be mine again. Well, it was best she and her shadow kept their distance. The Segue staff was in the ballroom for the memorial, chatting low or sniffling, which made her shadow harder to hold—so much emotion. Ellie forced her attention outside, where hope was alive, though she couldn’t feel it herself. Eight-year-old JT Parson was on the lawn, a story below her window vantage, laughing and playing soccer with his brother and the guard assigned to their protection. He jogged over to the ball and deftly kicked it backward to his brother. Slick move. She’d been able to save JT. And just look at him now. She’d been part of that. But Marcie . . . Segue was darker without her. Everyone felt it. Because that’s really who’d been holding Shadow back—at least for Ellie.
