Free Broken Illusions: A Midnight Dragonfly Novel by Ellie James

subconscious,” I said quietly.
    He didn’t move, other than the rise and fall of his shoulders. “But you don’t think that anymore?”
    Yesterday I’d told myself what happened with the Ouija board had been about Chase’s accident, another psychic warning, just via a different channel.
    I no longer had that luxury.
    “Detective LaSalle was at the condo when I got home last night,” I said.
    I saw him brace. “And?”
    Stepping into him, I lifted a hand to his chest. In that moment, I really, really needed to touch him.
    “What happened with Jessica?” I whispered, searching his eyes. “I think it’s happening again.”
    Omigod, Im SO freaking sorry!!!
    It wasn’t until after bombing the chem test that I saw Victoria’s text. Stepping into the hall, I scrolled through the other messages that had piled up during first period.
    The rumor mill spun fast.
    I didn’t tell him, I promise!
    Him, of course, was Lucas.
    He was asking me all these questions, trying to figure out what happened. He wanted to know who came through. I told him no one. But he kept on and finally he guessed it was your mom. I told him to be real, but he wouldn’t stop and got it in his head that’s what happened. I am SO SORRY. Amber is such a bitch.
    Maybe I should have been mad at Victoria, but I knew her. She wasn’t a good liar. When Lucas tossed out the possibility of my mom coming through, her eyes had probably gotten real big, or she’d stammered or looked away, something that made Lucas realize he’d hit pay dirt.
    Aware of the way everyone was looking at me, I texted her back and told her not to worry about it.
    Then I bit the inside of my mouth and clicked on Chase’s name.
    I want to know everything.
    There’d been no time for details before class, only a quick overview. And he’d left homeroom as soon as he’d turned in his test. We wouldn’t have a chance to talk until lunch.
    OK. No secrets—promise.
    After sending that, I stared at Detective LaSalle’s name. I hated the jolt I got every time it flashed across my phone. I tried to think of him as simply my aunt’s boyfriend, but since he didn’t think of me as simply his girlfriend’s niece, I had a hard time.
    Realizing I was about to be late to history, I made myself pull up his message.
    Sara says you didn’t dream last night. Try not to worry. Maybe something will click at the apartment. I’ll be waiting when school gets out.
    *   *   *
    The dragonfly stopped me cold.
    Standing inside Grace’s apartment, I stared at the shimmering sun-catcher for a long time. A ceiling fan whirred nearby, making the iridescent green glass flutter against the window. Through wide wings, sunlight fractured into a distorted rainbow.
    My thoughts raced. Pieces of the puzzle slipped closer, sharper now. But I couldn’t make them fit.
    “Trinity?” Detective LaSalle asked. “You okay? Are you getting something?”
    I made myself turn from the hauntingly simple dragonfly, the one so very, very much like the figurine of blown-glass in my bedroom. “Not yet.”
    He stood by the door, dressed as he always was in pressed khakis, a light blue shirt, and sport coat. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes and, I knew, the fatigue that came from lack of sleep. He’d been at our place until after one.
    “Take your time,” he said. Despite the sunglasses, I knew he watched.
    Grace’s apartment was little more than a single room with a fridge, stove, and sink to one side, a bathroom that looked more like a closet, and an Oriental screen standing in the middle, pretending to be a wall. A hollow door led out to the musty hall. Toward the back, beyond the futon that served as a bed, a lone window overlooked a courtyard.
    I’m not sure why that fascinated me so much, the secret gardens of the French Quarter, these thriving little oases tucked away from the rest of the world. But I loved that about the city, that you could be walking down the most crowded, foul-smelling street, looking at