Chapter Text
The bench in the holding cell was hard, cold, and uncomfortable in a way that felt intentional—like a reminder that she shouldn’t be there. Elphaba sat with her arms crossed, one boot propped against the metal bars, jaw tight as she glared at the wall opposite her. The air smelled like stale coffee and cheap disinfectant, and the dim yellow lighting did nothing to soften the dull throb behind her eyes.
She wasn’t even sure why she was so pissed off. Maybe it was because she was actually in trouble this time. Or maybe it was because she shouldn’t have been in trouble at all. Trespassing , they’d called it. As if stepping past a half-broken fence into an empty lot was some kind of heinous crime. She hadn’t even been doing anything—just wandering, letting her mind go blank for the first time in days. Then some nosy neighbor with nothing better to do had called the cops, and here she was.
Elphaba exhaled sharply, tilting her head back against the wall.
Her parents were going to lose their minds. Or at least her mother was. Her father probably wouldn’t say much of anything, just like he hadn’t said much of anything since Nessa—
She clenched her jaw.
It had been almost a year, and still, her parents acted as if nothing had changed. As if Nessa hadn’t spent her last months curled up in hospital beds, exhausted and in pain. As if their family hadn’t shattered the moment she took her final breath. They still hosted dinner parties. Still smiled at their colleagues. Still signed Christmas cards with all their names.
And Elphaba was just supposed to move on with them.
The thought made something sharp twist in her chest, but before she could drown in it, the sound of heels clicking against the linoleum snapped her back into the present. She glanced up just as her mother stopped outside the cell, arms folded, expression drawn in tight disapproval.
“Get up,” she said briskly.
Elphaba didn’t move right away. Some part of her wanted to test how far she could push before her mother snapped. But then the officer unlocked the cell, and she knew better than to make a scene. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, moving past her mother without a word.
The ride home was suffocating.
Her mother’s hands were stiff on the steering wheel, the tension rolling off her in waves. She didn’t speak for a long time, letting the weight of Elphaba’s actions settle between them, but Elphaba knew it was only a matter of time before—
“I am done with this, Elphaba.”
There it was.
Elphaba scoffed under her breath, looking out the window. “Yeah? I didn’t realize you were even dealing with it in the first place.”
Her mother inhaled sharply, gripping the wheel tighter. “You think this is a joke?”
“I think it’s stupid ,” Elphaba shot back, turning to glare at her. “It was an abandoned lot. I wasn’t doing anything. Some bored asshole just called the cops because they had nothing better to do.”
“You were arrested, Elphaba.”
“So?”
Her mother exhaled, slow and measured, as if willing herself not to scream. “You’ve been spiraling for months. I’ve tried to be patient, but I’m done. You need to clean up your act.”
Elphaba’s fingers curled into fists. Spiraling. That was the word her mother used when she didn’t want to say grieving. When she didn’t want to admit that Elphaba was still angry . That she wasn’t interested in pretending everything was fine.
“I’ve made a decision,” her mother continued, her voice tight but firm. “You’re cut off.”
Elphaba blinked. “Excuse me?”
“No more allowance. If you want to go to Shiz University, you’ll need to work this summer and earn your own money. Your father and I will still pay your tuition, but your expenses are on you. And if you can’t stay out of trouble, that deal is off the table.”
Elphaba’s stomach twisted, a slow burn of panic mixing with her frustration. Shiz University was the only place she wanted to go. The only future she had ever wanted for herself.
“You can’t be serious.”
Her mother didn’t even look at her. “You’ll be working for your uncle. He needs the help at his repair shop.”
Elphaba let out a humorless laugh. “So that’s it? You’re just dumping me in a garage for the summer?”
Her mother’s lips pressed together, her knuckles pale from gripping the wheel. “Consider it an opportunity to prove you can be responsible.”
Elphaba turned back to the window, her whole body tight with frustration. She had no choice. Not really. If she wanted to go to Shiz, she had to play by their rules.
Still, as they drove on in silence, she stared out at the darkened streets, jaw clenched, hating that—once again—she was the only one in her family who wasn’t pretending.
The chandelier above the dining table cast a soft, golden glow, its crystals swaying slightly with the hum of the air conditioning. The long oak table was perfectly set—polished silverware, folded linen napkins, a pristine centerpiece of fresh white roses. The scent of roasted chicken and garlic butter filled the air, mingling with the faint trace of her mother’s expensive perfume. It was the picture of perfection, like something out of a magazine.
Glinda had never felt more out of place.
She picked at her food, pushing peas into neat rows along the edge of her plate. The chicken was tender, seasoned exactly the way she used to love it, but she couldn’t bring herself to take a bite. She didn’t have much of an appetite these days—not since Avaric’s offhanded comment last week.
You’d be so much prettier if you watched what you ate.
He had smiled when he said it, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger like he was teasing. She had laughed—because wasn’t that what she was supposed to do? Pretend it didn’t hurt? Pretend she hadn’t felt something sink low and heavy in her stomach, like guilt or shame or something even worse?
Now, the thought of eating made her feel sick.
Across the table, her father cleared his throat, setting down his knife. “Galinda, you should eat more,” he said, his gaze flicking over her with vague concern. “You’re looking a little thin.”
Glinda’s grip tightened around her fork.
“She’s not just looking thin,” her mother interjected, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “She’s letting herself go.”
The words hit her like a slap.
Her stomach clenched, but she kept her expression perfectly still, carefully composed, just as she had been taught. She knew better than to react.
Her mother sighed, setting her wine glass down with a soft clink. “Honestly, Galinda, do you even realize how lucky you are? You have everything —a good home, a promising future, a perfect boyfriend—”
Glinda felt herself shrink in her seat at the mention of Avaric, her nails digging into her palm beneath the table. Perfect. That was the word everyone used. The mayor’s son, the golden boy, the one everyone adored. She was supposed to adore him, too. She was supposed to be grateful that someone like him had chosen her.
But she couldn’t be grateful for the way he treated her when no one was looking.
She shivered, the memory of that afternoon still too fresh. The last day of school. The way he had pulled her into the empty locker room, gripping her arm just a little too tight. The things he had whispered in her ear, the way his hands had wandered despite her protests. She had left feeling numb, hollowed out, like something inside her had cracked even deeper.
Her father turned the conversation toward work, discussing something with a city councilman over dinner earlier that day. Glinda tuned them out, her mind drifting, her pulse still unsteady. She only registered her mother speaking again when her name cut through the haze.
“Galinda, are you even listening?”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
Her mother exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I said, maybe you should go spend some time with your grandmother this summer.”
Her father frowned. “But we need her fo—”
“She’s no use to us like this,” her mother interrupted, her voice tight with frustration. “Sitting there looking sick and pale. She’s going to my mother’s, and hopefully, she’ll work out whatever this is before she ruins everything.”
Glinda didn’t react. Didn’t flinch.
If she was honest, she didn’t care where she ended up in the next five minutes.
She just wanted to disappear. To be a ghost.
That’s what everyone seemed to think of her anyway.