Chapter Forty-Three

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"Layla! Layla, wake up!"

Groggily, I open my eyes. Damian hovers over me, a panicked expression on his face.

"What's going on?" I ask, sitting up so fast it makes my head spin. I leap to my feet and remember that I fell asleep in Damian's bed with his clothes on.

I've slept over before, but not since he and Jessica started dating. I wonder if that's why he looks like he's about to upchuck.

"Zane's downstairs waiting for you," Damian grumbles, folding his brawny arms over his chest.

My eyebrows shoot up. "Zane is here?"

"I was gonna tell him to leave, but he said he needed to talk to you about something. It sounded serious."

"Alright, I'll be right down."

"I'll get you something of Mom's to wear," he mutters, glancing at my discarded Castelul uniform.

He returns moments later with a pair of gray sweatpants and a cotton t-shirt. I thank him for the comfy clothes and quickly dress myself, eager to hear what Zane has to say. He's never tracked me down at Damian's house before. Whatever is going on must be important.

Once I'm decent, I fly down the stairs and find Damian, Zane, and Moira sitting at the table, each with a cup of coffee in front of them.

Awkward.

"Good morning, Layla," Moira chips, flashing an amused grin in my direction.

"Good morning." I shove my hands into my pockets and glance at my three companions. "So... what's going on?"

"Just having our morning dose of caffeine." Moira holds up her mug and gestures to the pot of coffee, which is still half-full. "There's more if you want some. I bought some of that caramel creamer you like."

"Thank you," I reply. For as long as I've known Moira, she's been all about hospitality.

"Well, I need to get ready for work. I'll give you guys some privacy." She winks at me before taking her mug upstairs and leaving me with two guys who look like they want to kill each other.

I buy myself some time by making that cup of coffee Moira was talking about, carefully measuring out each tablespoon of creamer before joining the boys at the table.

"Did you enjoy your sleepover?" Zane shows off his cynical smirk, to which I roll my eyes. I'm not doing anything with Damian, and even if I was, it's no business of his.

"Why are you here?" Damian demands. Even though it was confirmed that Taisley was the one who drugged me, my best friend still doesn't care for my paramour. 

"Wanna follow your mom's example and give us some privacy?" Zane shoots back.

"Dude, this is my house!"

"Let him stay," I cut in. "This concerns him, too."

"Whatever." Zane shakes his head, visibly annoyed. "My step-dad was so flustered when he got home last night that he forgot to lock his car, so I had myself a look inside."

My jaw drops. "I'm assuming you found something?"

"That I did." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a faded photograph. "I'm warning you now: this is... freaky."

I take the picture from him and gasp.

It's a photo of a girl with curly brown hair, pale skin, and a face that's almost identical to mine. "Cynthia 1987" is scrawled on the back.

"God, you look just like her. You're the spitting image of my Cynthia, you know that?"

"Margo was right all along," I whisper, dropping the photograph onto the table.

Damian takes the picture, his blue eyes wide with shock. "She could be your twin, Layla."

"Yeah, because she's my Aunt Cynthia."

"I'm so confused," Zane mutters.

I tell him about Margo's ex, Anson, and how my grandmother is convinced that he and Mr. Bishop are the same person.

"This explains a lot," Damian muses. "The way he approached you last year and offered you a job out of the blue, last night's name mixup, even Taisley's weird behavior."

"So Bradley is Anson," I declare, "and according to my grandmother, he looks exactly the same as he did thirty years ago."

"People have been telling him for years that he ages well," Zane says with a shake of his head. "Maybe he just doesn't age at all."

I shrug my shoulders. "It isn't a crazy assumption."

"You know what is crazy? Your dad and I have shared an evil step-father," Zane jokes, making all of us laugh and erasing some of the tension in the air.

"When I said I wanted a distraction to get over Jose, I did not mean this." I take a sip of my now cold java. "So what should we do?"

"Well, you're not going back to Castelul," Damian orders. "It's way too dangerous."

"But it's our only in! Bradley still trusts me. He doesn't know that I'm onto him."

"He's not gonna trust you when he figures out you stole his blood."

"Wait, blood? You found the vials?" Zane questions me.

"They were in his office. I was able to swipe them after he left to deal with a work crisis."

"You're kind of a badass," Zane commends me, showing off a genuine smile and not just a smirk. "Where are they now?"

"My freezer," Damian pipes in. "They'll be safe there."

"Good." Nodding his head, Zane turns to me and says, "I have to head out. Hold on to that picture, alright?"

"I will," I promise. "Where are you going?"

"Apartment hunting. I'm an adult now. There's no reason I should still be living with the Bishops," he replies, cringing.

"Do you have money for an apartment?"

"Nope."

"Then what exactly is your plan?"

"I'll be fine, dollface." He finishes his coffee in one gulp and then rises to his feet. "Damian, tell your mom I said thanks for the morning pick-me-up. Layla, I'll see you around."

I let out a sigh, my heart torn. I don't want Zane endangering himself by staying with his psychotic step-family, but there's no way he'll find a place to live within his price range. He'll end up on the street, and he knows it.

At least he'll be able to use his ability to keep himself warm.

"I'm gonna regret this," I hear Damian mumble. "Zane, hold on!"

Zane turns around, his hand on the doorknob. "Yes?"

"We have a couch in the cellar. There's no heat down there, and it smells like mildew, but if my mom found out I let you leave here without a place to go home to, she'd kill me." Damian's face is contorted, as if just being nice to Zane causes him physical pain.

"Are you serious?" I whisper, unable to hide my astonishment.

"I'm serious. What do you say, Zane?"

I watch as Zane's lips part into a megawatt smile, his dark eyes glistening with excitement. "I'll grab my stuff."

A/N:
Get ready for Zamian 😉
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