Lucy’s POV
Lance’s arm remained draped possessively over mine as we strolled across the courtyard, his touch both protective and casual. I should have been happy—should have let the moment wash away everything else—but a shadow tugged at the back of my mind. I had seen the look on Kenneth’s face before I turned away: that raw mix of pain and jealousy. It lingered in me, a tiny ache that refused to fade. Still, my conscience reminded me sharply that he was engaged—to none other than Patricia, the witch herself.
And, as if the universe had been waiting for her cue, speak—or rather, think—of the devil, and she appears.
Just as Lance and I passed the Science Auditorium, his curiosity pulling him toward the gleaming glass structure, we bumped straight into her. Patricia Bratton. Her smirk wa
