She took a deep breath, then let out several huge sneezes right in Amelia Lane’s direction.
“Achoo! Achoo!”
Elizabeth Wilson drew closer and closer, practically pressing up against Amelia Lane as she sneezed, not holding back at all.
Amelia’s face twisted with disgust; she stood there, frozen and stiff.
Elizabeth, flustered and panicked, grabbed the hem of Amelia’s shirt and wiped her mouth and nose on it, not even realizing what she was doing.
When she looked up, she forced a sheepish grin. “Sorry, but—achoo—you just smell so—achoo—so strong, I really—achoo—couldn’t help it.”
Amelia yanked her shirt away, only to find a smear of sticky, unidentified gunk on the fabric. Her face went beet red with rage and disgust as she furiously flung the stained piece of her shirt away.
Laughter burst out around them.
Amelia glanced at the crowd—everyone was covering their mouths and noses, even her own little entourage mimicked the movement, shooting her nervous glances as if afraid to catch something.
Her cheeks burned crimson, her chest heaving with angry breaths. She looked like she was about to explode.
Suddenly, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the crowd, nearly breaking into a run as she hurried away.
From a distance, Emily Blair watched as Amelia, mid-sprint, hesitated and suspiciously sniffed at her own sleeve, as if doubting whether she actually smelled.
More laughter rippled through the students clustered around Emily.
She couldn’t help but smile herself, feeling a warmth spread through her chest.
She’d spent so long alone, always the outsider.
Now, looking back, she realized she was no longer on her own—she had people standing behind her.
And that was all thanks to Elizabeth Wilson.
In both her past and present lives, Elizabeth had done so much for her—far more than she could ever repay.
Sometimes she felt a pang of guilt for having “stolen” Elizabeth away from Andrew Lane, but mostly, she just felt lucky.


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