McKenna's pov

As I crossed the bridge to the Isle, a rush of memories swept over me. The twisted alleyways, the crooked buildings, the faint buzz of danger in the air—it all felt like a ghost of my past reaching out to me. Six months wasn’t a long time, but it was long enough for everything to change.

The cobblestones beneath my feet felt familiar, but the glares I caught from the locals were anything but. I wasn’t their girl anymore. I’d traded my throne of scraps for a crown in Auradon, and they hadn’t forgiven me for it.

My hideout wasn’t hard to find, but it was unrecognizable. The walls that once bore my symbol were covered with new ones—five of them, bold and defiant. My stomach tightened as I studied each design.

The first was unmistakably Celeste de Vil’s. Her symbol screamed drama and flair: a split black-and-white design surrounded by jagged red flames. “LONG LIVE EVIL” was scrawled across it in bold letters, practically daring anyone to challenge her. I had to admit, the girl had improved since I left.

The second belonged to Zachariah Hook, Harry’s younger brother. His was simpler but still unmistakable—a red coat with a massive feathered hat, the yellow “LONG LIVE EVIL” written proudly on the back. It was flashy, just like him.

Then there was Vitani, daughter of Scar and Zira. Her lion-head design practically roared off the wall, its flame-like mane outlined in an aggressive red. Vitani wasn’t one to be subtle; she wanted everyone to know who was in charge.

Ivory Tremaine’s was different. It wasn’t covered in slogans or bold colors. Just an outline of her mother, Anastasia. Ivory wasn’t evil, not really. She was just bad.

But the last one hit me harder than the rest. Xavier’s. My ex. The son of Dr. Facilier. His design was sharp, calculated, and unmistakable. It pulled at my chest, forcing memories I’d tried to bury to surface. We’d been inseparable once—stealing, scheming, ruling this turf together. And then I’d left.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my washed-out blonde hair. “Nice work, McKenna,” I muttered to myself. “Now you’ve got the whole Isle pissed at you, your ex leading the charge, and no crew to back you up. Great plan.”

Shoving those thoughts aside, I made my way to Curl Up and Dye, the only place I could think to reclaim a bit of my old self.

At Curl Up and Dye

The shop was quiet when I walked in, save for the rhythmic swish of a broom on the floor. Danielle, Drizella Tremaine’s daughter, was sweeping up, looking as miserable as ever. She didn’t notice me at first, too lost in her task, but when her eyes lifted, her face lit up.

“McKenna!” she exclaimed. “Is Evie back too?”

“As if,” I scoffed, memories of Evie’s parting words flashing through my mind. “She’s an Auradon girl now. Left this place in the dust.”

Danielle’s face fell slightly, but she quickly covered it. “Well, it’s good to see you. The place looks different, huh?”

“Yeah, looks good,” I said, glancing around. “So, has your grandma let you take any real customers yet?”

Danielle laughed bitterly. “A few witches here and there. Mostly, I just sweep and scrub. Lots of scrubbing and lots of sweeping.”

“Cinderella treatment, huh?” I smirked.

“Exactly.” She rolled her eyes but smiled. “So, what brings you here?”

I leaned against the counter, gesturing to my hair. “You did Evie’s hair, right? Think you could work your magic on me?”

Danielle studied me critically, her lips twisting. “The blonde? Seriously? I know you’re the long-lost princess of Aurora and Philip, but come on. This isn’t a good look for you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really feeling it either,” I admitted. “The works, Danielle. Make me feel like me, but worse.”

Her face lit up. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.”

She worked quickly, cutting, dyeing, and styling with an enthusiasm I hadn’t seen in her before. It felt like hours before she finally stepped back, beaming.

“Done!” she announced proudly.

I glanced in the broken mirror, a grin tugging at my lips despite myself. My hair was back to its signature purple, chopped into a short, edgy style. “There I am,” I said softly.

“You look so much better,” Danielle agreed.

I handed her a wad of cash. “Here. You earned it.”

She blinked in surprise. “For me?”

“Yeah,” I said with a shrug. “Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not worth it.”

But before Danielle could respond, the door slammed open, and in strolled Ivory Tremaine, a smug grin plastered across her face.

“Fork it over, pipsqueak,” she demanded, holding out her hand. Danielle hesitated, but with a resigned sigh, handed over the cash I’d just given her.

“Now the rest of it,” Ivory added, snatching a few more coins from Danielle’s pocket.

“Running errands for Xavier, or do you actually enjoy stealing from your cousin and grandmother?” I asked, my tone sharp.

Ivory’s gaze snapped to me, and her smirk widened. “Well, well, well. Look who’s back. The princess herself.”

“Hi, Ivory,” I said evenly.

“Xavier’s gonna love hearing you’re back,” she said, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. “Not that it’ll matter. He’s not giving you your old territory back.”

“We’ll see about that,” I shot back.

Ivory laughed. “You? Alone? Against Xavier and his crew? Good luck with that.”

She stepped closer, scrutinizing me with a sly grin. “You know,” she said, her voice dropping, “you still have feelings for him.”

I stiffened. “What?”

“It’s written all over your face,” she said smugly. “You can’t deny it.”

With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the shop, leaving me standing there, a knot twisting in my stomach.

Was she right? Did I still have feelings for Xavier?

As I left the shop, the question lingered, haunting me more than I wanted to admit.