On the floor, a pile of black shards and crystal dust. Her scrying mirror, her Saturn Club initiation gift, which had only ever told us if our hair was in place, if there was food between our teeth. I had heard the crash, seen the small table crooked against the wall, but I hadn’t registered anything more than that before storming out with the book. I hadn’t even taken a coat; I was shivering, windburned skin and numb joints.
I bent down and lifted a piece of glass, the biggest one – there was blood on the edge. It reflected white light as I turned it, and then suddenly my face: blotchy skin, pink eyes, a comma of blood on my lip, where it had split from the cold.
Amparo was still yelling, yelling at me and crying, too. The fire within me was flickering, shrinking from the cold and my ex
