Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

If Maja didn’t know the significance of that tattoo, she might have brushed it off as someone being overly cautious. But having been around the block in Outer Island, where she’d seen enough of the darkness that the tattoo could bring, she was piecing together the puzzle. Forbidden Island probably had something to do with BK, but the extent of their connection was still up in the air. Those who got into BK weren’t off to some fancy prep school; they were being plucked for something else, something darker—maybe even for research. After all, it’s the most intelligent ones that are ripe for the picking. So what was the deal between BK and that shadowy research facility? Her brow furrowed as Quentin’s voice continued to spill the beans. “Madam heard something she shouldn’t have and has been fretting over me ever since. Her health’s been on the fritz, but the high school’s got an iron grip—no walking out unless you’ve got someone to take over your place. Only way she can rest up at home is if someone else takes her spot or, well, if she kicks the bucket.” “How did you figure I could paint?” Quentin’s lashes fluttered down as he tugged at his lips in a half-smile, “Call it a hunch.” Maja looked up at the ceiling, let out a long sigh, “Is there more to this jellyfish tattoo story?” “Once you fill in, you can enter your artwork in contests. Hit the mark for Middle Island, and you’re in. But getting to Inner Island? That’s a whole different ballgame. If you’re digging into the tattoo, odds are you’ll need to head to Inner Island.” He rubbed his neck, a shadow crossing his face. “In two months, and I’m supposed to be shipped off to Inner Island after the big test. My fate’s up in the air.” No wonder the kid seemed so detached, so aloof for his age. “Maja, the secret of the jellyfish tattoo lies in Inner Island—I’ve told you all I know. You’ve already agreed to this,” he said, the subtext clear: she can’t back out. Not that Maja was in any position to back out now. From Quentin’s revelations, she gleaned that he was the only one among this year’s high schoolers to crack the top ten rankings for the whole island—the smartest kid this year. Education on Outer Island was like being stuck in some backwater village, making a shot at a better life tough to come by. So the fact that Quentin was stamped with that tattoo probably made him the pride of the school. Now, as the new art teacher, Maja would rub elbows with the school’s brass and maybe glean more intel. Luck was on her side, stumbling upon a lead so early in the game. “I did make a promise, didn’t I?” Quentin stood up, reheating the takeout he’d brought and dishing it out to the other kids in the yard. Maja stayed inside, the laughter outside softening her expression. Her hand was suddenly gripped by a

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