Reyna's phone buzzed again. Veronica's name lit up the screen like a warning beacon.
She answered with a growl. "I swear to god, Vero, if you're calling to gloat—"
"¿Qué onda, hermanita? Did you actually break a sweat against that stray dog today?" Her sister's laugh carried through the speaker, rich and musical and infuriating. "Porque I watched the whole thing. You looked like you were fighting for your life instead of putting on a show."
Reyna's grip tightened on the phone. "He was the Number One prospect at the entrance exams. Remember that little detail? Maybe you were too busy signing endorsement deals to notice."
"But you're La Sirena. The Crimson Comet. You don't draw with C-Rank nobodies."
"He wasn't—" Reyna caught herself. Her jaw worked. "Mierda, Vero. You didn't see what I saw. That bastard absorbed my lightning. Absorbed it. Like he had some kind of electromagnetic black hole built into his chest."
Silence. Then Veronica hummed thoughtfully. "Interesting."
