Alice

　　I run as fast as my legs can carry me until my lungs feel like they are filled with lead, and my lips can't grasp any air. My hand reaches out to lean against a tree, and then I royally puke all over my shoes—hopefully, no one saw this golden moment.

　　But I'm never that lucky.

　　A snicker comes from behind me. "Running isn't for witches, I suppose."

　　I turn around to scowl at older Dior, who is standing a few feet away. I'm not afraid ...