The Three Who Chose Me

Josie

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I turned to Marcy, eyes wide, heart hammering like a drum. "Why the hell would you stop me from tearing that letter?!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the room before I could even think about lowering it. "That’s none of your business, Marcy!"

We stared at each other, two women standing in the thick tension that filled the air. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, and I saw the exact second she bit back the thing she wanted to say. Finally, it was Marcy who looked away first.

"I’m sorry," she muttered, her voice low. "I stepped out of line. You’re the Next Luna, after all. I should’ve remembered my place." Her tone was clipped, cold in a way that Marcy’s voice had never been with me before.

That hit me harder than it should have. My anger simmered, confusion lacing through it like poison. I blinked, suddenly unsure. "Wait... Marcy," I started, reaching out instinctively to grab her hand. "I didn’t mean to snap like that, I just—"

She pulled her hand gently from mine and shook her head. "No, it’s fine. I’m not angry. But I need a break."

My heart dropped a little. A break? From me?

"That doesn’t sound like you," I said slowly, carefully. "You’ve never been the type to bottle things up. So why are you doing it now?"

She looked at me then, really looked at me—and the pain in her eyes made my stomach twist. "Because if I tell you how I really feel, Josie, things between us will never be the same. And I’d rather just... leave it."

That silence that followed was worse than any screaming match. I couldn’t even find the words to respond. My throat felt tight.

"Are you coming back?" I asked finally, hating how small my voice sounded.