Maeve

“He just left? Just… got up and left?” Gemma picked at her fingernails, looking over at me from perch on the couch. We were in the atrium, a towering four-story high addition to the backside of the castle where the windows stretched to the ceiling and almost microscopic hoses ran along the beams, showering hundreds of plants in a steady flow of mist. It was what I imagined a jungle would look and feel like.

I fingered one of the leaves of a massive ...