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Amelie tried her best to not be too annoying—for once. She held her tongue the entire time she was helping Camilo with the 'thank you' letters, not even mentioning it when their hands touched on one of the envelopes. 

And Camilo noticed. He was glad for the silence. Until it got awkward. 

"So, how is it having your parent's here?" Camilo asked, clearing his throat and sitting back on the ground. Amelie stopped what she was writing, looking up at him with surprise. 

"Oh, it's...it's—" Amelie inhaled sharply, deciding not to lie. "It's horrible. I hate them so much and I wish they'd just go back home." 

Camilo blanched at the honestly. "Oh." He didn't want to offend her by not seeming interested. "So...I guess you don't get along with them particularly well?" 

"I'm never good enough for them," Amelie admitted. "It feels like they're constantly asking me to be someone I'm not, and I'm never doing what they want." 

Camilo knew a thing or two about that, and he actually felt sympathetic towards the blonde girl. "I get that, actually." 

Amelie wanted to ask him if his parents ever wanted him to help them destroy a bunch of mountains. Or assassinate a king...that's a long story. 

"Yeah?" 

"Well," Camilo scratched the back of his head. "Less from my parents and more from Abuela. You, you know how she is." 

Amelie nodded. "It sucks trying to be something you're not." she said quietly. 

"I know," Camilo said, and they made eye contact. It wasn't romantic or anything, Amelie knew well enough that him and Avon were perfect for each other. It would be stupid to get in between that. She was just glad that someone could understand her. Really listen to her for a second. 

"Thanks for—uh listening," Amelie said, coughing slightly. 

"You know, I like you a lot better when you aren't telling me my arms on fire and I should put donkey hair on them," Camilo said matter-o-factly. 

Amelie laughed. "Did I say that?" 

"You did—actually." 

_

BEFORE DINNER

_

Marley had been watching Avon for long enough to know how she operated, which was mostly on pure instinct. Avon was quick to the punch, as people nowadays would say. Marley was reluctant to call the girl smart, but she was. 

It was Marley's job to analyze people and she prided herself on  succeeding. So, as she watched Avon use her powers to lift a great deal of dishes and other random stuff off the table she realized that Avon would be the perfect tool for her plan. 

"You see, Parker?" Marley said coldly, as Avon absent-mindedly flew up the staircase. "She's young—she's naive and she's got a lot of power that she barely uses." 

"—" 

"Shh," Marley hushed her husband even though he didn't even say a thing. "Here's what must be done—" 

The second unfortunate thing she noticed was Avon's attachment to Camilo. Marley could see that the two were very close and she decided to use that to her advantage. Since Avon acted mostly on emotion, less logic—or as Marley thought she did—all Marley had to do was manipulate the right strings and wham-bam there was her puppet. 

All that was left to do was to find the perfect time to set the plan in order.

However unbeknownst to Marley, another certain individual was becoming increasingly aware of her less than decent plans.


Antonio Madrigal had sent his two favorite rats to watch her every move making sure that she wasn't doing anything to hurt his family. 

"—and then we'll have our gold," Marley finished, folding her hands together. "Got it?" 

Parker got it. He understood perfectly; every word she'd said. 

And so did Fred and George. 


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