Candace
When the sun rises the next morning, it finds me crouching in the stables, sandwiched between one of Finn’s favorite stallions and Ingrid. It lights the wild grin that’s barely left her face since I barged into her drawing practice yesterday and declared Kieran didn’t control me. She immediately bounced out of her seat, hugged me, and said she’d been waiting her whole life for me to start breaking rules. I don’t know if I believe her, but she’s thrown herself into this scheme with a gusto I didn’t know even she held for scheming.
“Okay,” she whispers like we’re not in the stall with the mare because it’s least likely to spook. “Time for the final stage. Are you ready?”
I nod sharply. The time for wondering, for questioning my decisions, is over. We’ve got one very narrow window,
