The cell was dark, as most were, and even the flickering lamps on the row couldn’t light the hallway enough for you to avoid a shard of a glass or a well-trained whip littering the stone.

You should have never agreed to do this. And now you would pay the price.

Stopping in front of the cell was a travesty in itself. You were going to be killed. You had agreed to transform from a girl to a boy in order to get information from the men that presided here.

The School of Boys was a green and dark castle of nightmares filled with hulking men that held a torch to the pristine and lovely pink and blue glass palace of dreams, The School for Girls, just across the Halfway Bridge.

You had agreed to become a boy, one that was tall but not too much, had brown straight hair, and a frame that emanated a shy and sweet demeanor.

And that entire body froze as you saw the man sitting on the bed closest to the window.

It was Tedros, the so-proclaimed “princely heartthrob” of back when The School for Good and Evil had been divided between the two names. You’d been put in Evil against your will, but even the popular man could not avoid you and had fallen instantly the moment you’d locked eyes.

And when he’d realized you were truly evil, he’d broken it off with you and moved on to your best friend, Agatha, who had been in Good. You’d tried to convince yourself you were over him.

But here you were, watching him muss his fluffy brown hair with his large, calloused hands. His broad frame was unmistakable in his white linen shirt.

He couldn’t know who you were, and he wouldn’t. You stepped inside.

He turned around slowly, and everything in it was Tedros.

The furrowed brow and the tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. “You’re the new boy,” He said roughly. “The new transfer.”

You nodded, pressed against the wall. Rumor had it Tedros had been in such a bad state after he’d broken up with you and moved to Agatha that he’d been locked away into a cell.

And here he was.