He shook his head and gritted, “You may,” before slamming the bathroom door behind him. I bumped into Yulia in my bedroom doorway. She held out a glass of water and two ibuprofen for my wrist. As I plopped the pills in my mouth and swallowed them down with a drink, I thought I saw a flicker of softness in her gaze. Though it disappeared with a purse of her lips and the next words from her mouth. “If she profanes herself by whoring, she shall be burned with fire.” Then she grabbed the glass from my hand, brushed past me, and headed down the hall, humming. I was really living the dream here. No doubt Captive Barbie would be in stores next season. After taking a hot shower, I drifted into the dining room for breakfast. Completely unconcerned with my presence, Kylie’s twin set the table between bouts of texting and delicate giggles. It was only when I poured a cup of tea that she stilled to examine me like bacteria under a microscope. “They say you are Mikhailova,” she said very slowly. The last thing I wanted was to make small talk, but my manners forced me to respond. “They’re correct.” “They also say you are witch.” I could only give a hint of a smile. “You do not look like one.” Her unimpressed gaze slid down my wet hair and T-shirt dress. “Or like prisoner.” “T guess they come in many shapes and forms.” I wasn’t sure if we were talking about being a witch or a prisoner at this point, though I guessed the statement worked for both. “You seem...” She frowned as if she had to force the word out. “Nice. But what do they say?” She tapped her lips in thought, then her eyes lit up with a snap of her fingers. “Blood will out.” Her excitement to use the expression watered down the insult. Apparently, she’d heard the rumors of my mother. Or my papa. I guessed I had a lot of bad blood on both sides, but it was clear she spoke of the former when her gaze slid to the hickey on my neck and she purred, “Though it seems you have already gone down that road.” Kylie was a total buzzkill. I didn’t respond and added some sugar to my tea, which seemed to annoy her. “You must know he does not actually vant you.”