>AFTER CLASSES ENDED, Violette’s classmates trickled out of the room one by one. This signal that it was time to go home always weighed heavily on her heart. But today was different. She was so grateful to Yulan for inviting her out. Her sadness was still there, but it was buried deep for now.

>She had so much trouble handling her worst emotions. Past Violette had tried to suppress them, but they’d just erupted more violently than she ever wanted. Second chance aside, she still didn’t know a safe way to let them out. If she never vented her feelings to anyone, would they disappear on their own someday? She hoped they would, that she’d be free of them in the future. For now, though, they took up space in her mind, keeping her from fully feeling her excitement.

>Her head was scrambled, and nausea wrapped around her throat.

>She didn’t want Yulan to see her like this, weak and in pain. She didn’t want to worry him; she wanted him to smile. She was looking forward to this trip, and she wanted so badly to enjoy it. Even if she couldn’t, she didn’t want him thinking he’d caused her bad mood.

>Why am I like this? Why can’t I change?!

>She felt so pathetic. She told herself over and over to be different, to be better, as she shoved those swirling, black emotions deeper into her heart. If she couldn’t deflect them and couldn’t let them out, she’d have to swallow them. Someday, she’d digest them, and they’d be gone. Someday she could stop fighting her own mind. She told herself that, but she somehow doubted it was true.

>“Vio! Sorry I kept you waiting!” Yulan called.

>“Calm down,” said Violette.

>Yulan entered her classroom like an avalanche, big and loud and unstoppable. He seemed a little frazzled, like he’d run all the way there—was that sweat on his brow? How fast had he run to get here as soon as possible? Her excitement from yesterday tried to burst out of her, but it threatened to bring the rest of her emotions with it.

>She averted her eyes as all that pain and sadness stabbed through her. She tried her hardest not to let any of it show. If she let her emotions show, she wouldn’t be able to suppress them a second time; they were too heavy to hold and too strong to throw away.

>Violette looked excited, but her smile wasn’t what he expected. She wasn’t great at smiling—they often came out awkward and strained—but she usually relaxed when they were together. Her pleased smirk, her astonished grin, or her aloof, self-satisfied smile—they were each lovely in their own way, and much better than the frigid mask she hid her feelings behind. Most people believed the mask. They were blind to how much she suffered. Ridiculous idiots… He agreed with them that she was wonderful, but they’d barely scratched the surface of why.

>He wanted Violette to smile all the time—pure, happy smiles. And he wanted to be the one to make her happy.

>He wished he could whisk her away from the Vahan family home, and he vowed he’d do it someday, even if it meant eloping or something even more drastic. He wanted to crush that entire family with his own hands, no matter what it cost him. He wanted to destroy anything that hurt her. But for now, there was nothing he could do.

>All he could do right now was give her a little relief. He wanted to make her forget her cage for a little while. She’d never had a fun day out before, so he wanted to give her some happy memories.

>Happy memories with him, specifically. His motives weren’t entirely altruistic.

>When he rushed into her classroom, though, she wasn’t wearing the smile he’d imagined or her wry mask. Instead, her smile was small and empty, like she was sad or hurt and smiling to force those feelings down.

>He did know that face—it was the one she used around her father, at high society parties, or when surrounded by the girls who followed her, jockeying for favor.

>Violette had drawn a line—she was fighting some battle within herself, but it was private, and if he reminded her of the pain it would only hurt her more. So, he put on his happiest smile and fell right into his younger brother role. He became that sweet, kind boy with warm, gentle hands who knew he couldn’t close her wounds, but tried to help her forget them.