Estella’s POV
I launched myself at the man before me, claws extended just like Dane had taught me. My nails scraped against the wall as I swung, but he twisted aside with surprising agility, rolling beneath the stall until he landed in the open space of the restroom.
I followed, ready to strike again, when he leapt to his feet and raised his hand in surrender. Magic danced around his fingertips—magic that looked a lot like Elise’s.
“Estella, wait! It’s me! Elise!”
I skidded to a stop, narrowing my eyes.
“Elise?” I repeated, and he nodded, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “You better explain yourself. Now!”
“That’s… a long story,” he said with a little half-smile that I was so used to seeing on Elise’s face that it made me lower my hand on instinct. He was Elise—or at least
