Of Delicate Pieces Read Free Page A

implied.”
    “I’m done guessing.”
    “Drumroll, please. The article is about—” Skye paused for dramatic effect “—tourism.”
    “Oh. That doesn’t sound so bad.”
    “Before I read it, I thought the same thing,” Skye said. “You can probably guess why so many spirits are visiting the town.”
    “To see me.”
    “The gist of the article is that the city should prepare itself for even more tourism. Shop owners are ecstatic, townies are annoyed, and the visitors, yeah, they are here to catch a glimpse of you, and they aren’t afraid to say it. Fame comes at a price.”
    “Are visitors allowed on the school campus?”
    “Of course not, but are you planning to limit yourself to the Brigitta campus?”
    Alex hadn’t thought of this. As soon as she stepped foot through the alleyway leading to Lazuli Street and the city beyond, it was public domain. “Can anyone get into the city?”
    “Any spirit? Yes.”
    “How do they find it?”
    “Like the bodied would, genius. They follow a map. Supposedly, the sky shines brighter over our little city, and that helps, too.”
    “A map through frequency waves and following light. That’s hardly traveling like the bodied.”
    Skye tapped her fingers along the edge of the railing, giving Alex a forced smile.
    “What do you think? They won’t try to keep me confined to Brigitta, will they?”
    “Do you want to read the article?”
    “Not really.”
    “Okay, then. I guess I’ll tell you. This year marks the centennial of the current civility laws.”
    “In plain English please.”
    “Seriously? We have brilliant minds.”
    “I just woke up. Give me the plain and simple facts.”
    “Fine. One hundred years ago, the spirited and the gifted came to a truce about how they would interact.”
    “I thought there was no interaction.”
    “Exactly. That was the truce. Sephi Anovark was really close to changing it, but she died at the wrong time. Her ambitions died with her, so the agreement became that we would live peacefully but separately.”
    Alex heard her name whispered multiple times among the conversations seven stories below in the vestibule. They flew upward and fused together in a wavy question mark of light.
    “It’s some big thing called the Centennial, and it’s going to bring in even more tourism.”
    “The gifted are going to come in to see the city?”
    Skye put a hand over her heart. “They’d never let the gifted in here.”
    Alex assumed that once the summer was over, her fifteen minutes of fame would end. She didn’t know whether to feel anticipation or dread, to know on which side the grass would be greener. The funny thing about being dead though was that these tourists had all the time in the world to tread on that grass. Especially tourists who wanted to sneak a peek at a newbury who was identical to one of Eidolon’s most tragic figures.
    Little did they know, she wasn’t related to Sephi Anovark, and, most importantly, she had no psychic abilities. She wasn’t special. “That’s all that the article said?”
    Skye nodded her head and then shook it. “There were a few quotes from witnesses who had already seen you. Freaking out. Are you aware that there’s a map of where you usually go in the city?”
    She didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid. “What a way to start the new season.”
    Skye hopped into movement. “Not until tomorrow! Let’s get going. We have a lot to do today.”
    “We have nothing to do today.”
    “Don’t you have group therapy?”
    Alex followed Skye to the winding ramp leading down to the vestibule. “Like I said. Nothing.”
    She despised therapy. Wallowing in her feelings and whining about death was a waste of time.
    At the foot of the ramp, Skye turned. “Here. I almost forgot.” She plucked the flower from her ear, presenting it to Alex before descending down the stairs.
    “What’s this?”
    “Morning Glory. It should bring you some peace.”
    Alex examined the blue flower in her