Lullaby (The Fable Series, Book 2)

Chapter Fifteen

Netflix and a box of caramel doughnuts can mend most things in the world, even a broken heart.

Jamie, Grace and Zee are snuggled under a blanket on the sofa next to me, our feet propped up on the glass coffee table in front of us. My mom's always freaking out that we're going to break it someday, but seriously, it's the perfect height for a footrest.

We already watched three episodes of Friends, and after it started getting dark the girls got permission from their parents to sleep over, except Jamie, who doesn't need it. Her mom probably wouldn't notice if she went missing for a month.

Sometimes I think that Jamie's attention-craving personality a her love of the limelight, and her desire to be loved and adored, by her friends, her Instagram fans, and the inaccessible hot older guy who she can never have â all stem from her inattentive, constantly absent mother. That's why I find it hard to stay mad at Jamie, even when she overreacts. Just like everyone else, she has her issues.

Jamie stopped sniffling and blowing her nose ages ago, but I'm still finding it hard to concentrate on the movie. It's some cheesy high school film that came out earlier this year, starring Mitch Michaels as a loner kid who falls for a cheerleader. It's the sort of movie I'd usually enjoy, but not tonight.

I have way too much on my mind.

Mrs. Leyton was engaged to Bea's brother. And Bea blames Mrs. Leyton for his death. Add to that, her slimy boyfriend Robert was wearing a silver ring with some sort of markings on it. There's a deeper connection somewhere here. And I have no doubt any more that it's linked to Fable, and the myth of the five princes.

"No, don't open it, it's a trap!" Zee screams at the TV, just as the hero opens his locker and a mountain of packing peanuts falls out onto him.

It's a weird thought that before I met the band, before I became part of their world, on a night like tonight my besties and I would most likely have been in the throes of a Fable marathon. We'd blast out their songs, do each other's nails, take online quizzes to find out which of the boys is our soulmate, or which Fable song best matches our personality. A lot of the older fans resent the teen girl portion of the fan base, who they say ruin the whole thing for everyone by being in love with the band rather than with the music.

The truth of it is that we did, and still do, love the music just as much as we loved the people creating it. We knew every chord, every lyric off by heart, and it was a pretty usual Saturday night for us girls to lie together on my bed belting out the words to some obscure Fable song like total dorks. But it would be too weird to do that now, too real. Now that I know them on a first name basis and all. Which is why we're spending the evening watching a movie where the high point thus far has been some guy getting showered with packing peanuts.

Just as I'm about to reach for another doughnut, my phone vibrates in my pajama pocket. I reach in and take it, feeling a slight rush as I hold the phone up.

All the boys, and Kitty, have my number, and they all know about the spot under the tree with reception. It could be any one of them.

My mood drops slightly as I see that it's not a text â it's an email. But my spirits lift again instantly when I see who the sender is.

Rowena Braden, secretary for the Royal University of Ireland.

I open the email.

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From: Rowena Braden < r.braden@RUI.co.edu >

Dear Ms. Shields,

Thank you for your earlier email with regards interviewing Professor Emeritus Eagla McAuley for your thesis. Prof. McAuley has been sent your details and the subject of your paper, and has expressed interest in speaking with you.