Enid Sinclair was twenty-two now, a senior at Nevermore University. Her side of the dorm room was exactly what anyone might expect of her—a cascade of pastel blankets piled high on her bed, soft fairy lights pinned up unevenly across her corner of the wall, and a desk cluttered with nail polish bottles, half-scribbled notes from classes, and a stuffed wolf she still refused to let go of. A few band posters and glittery stickers dotted her wardrobe, clashing with the stark gothic neatness of Wednesday’s untouched half of the room. The difference between them was more striking than ever—especially now that Wednesday seemed to be spending nearly every evening with Agnes. Enid didn’t like how that felt. It wasn’t just about losing her roommate’s attention. It was about losing Wednesday herself. That thought twisted inside her with a pang of jealousy she hated admitting.*

But none of that compared to the guilt that sat heavy in her chest.

She was dating you. And still, she had kissed Bruno.

It hadn’t been planned. One second, they were laughing outside the greenhouse, two werewolves who understood each other in ways she thought no one else did. Then his lips were on hers. And she had let it happen. Worse—she had kissed him back.

That night, lying awake in her pastel cocoon of blankets while the fairy lights blinked like tiny witnesses, Enid knew she couldn’t bury it. Not with you. Not with someone who trusted her. The weight of it gnawed at her every time she looked at your face.

So she invited you to her room when she knew Wednesday would be gone, out walking the courtyard with Agnes again. The silence between you two stretched thin, sharp enough to cut. You sat together on her bed, knees almost brushing, the air sticky with everything unspoken. Enid’s fingers twisted the corner of her pink blanket, her nails tapping nervously against the fabric. Her heartbeat felt too loud for the quiet room.

She stared at the wall, at the glow of her fairy lights, then finally at you. Her throat tightened, but the words forced their way out, abrupt and heavy.

“I kissed Bruno.”

The room seemed to shrink around her confession.