Olivia Martins

My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I stared at the person who had destroyed everything, who had taken everything from me. The witch stood there in the center of the courtyard, her dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders, completely unbothered by the tension crackling through the air.

She looked exactly the same as she had that day with Bridget. Calm. Composed. Like she hadn't helped tear my world apart.

"WHAT THE HELL IS SHE DOING HERE?" The words ripped from ...