It was strange knowing what you are, but not who you are.

She doesn't know where she came from, who her parents were, or who left her behind. All she can ever be certain of was her name: Evangeline.

All everyone's ever told her was how strange her story was. On a warm August morning just before daybreak, a bundle of wiggling blankets was left in front of the angel statue in the New York City Marble Cemetery in Manhattan—one of the infinite entrances to the Silent City. Within the blankets was a wailing baby girl with a full head of dark hair and a note where her name was written right above a nearly perfect drawing of the Enkeli, the Angelic Power rune, all in black Sharpie. She still has the note; it's tucked away into the spine of her copy of The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien.

The Silent Brothers brought her into the Silent City and calmed her incessant crying with baby formula—where they got it, she had no idea. They determined she was Nephilim and whoever left her behind knew of the Shadow World, but left no trace of themselves behind. Orphaned Nephilim children were nothing out of the ordinary, though. The Silent Brothers arranged the protection ceremony all newborn Nephilim undergo and once completed, they dropped her off at the nearest sanctuary: the New York Institute. After all, they couldn't care for her. Can you imagine a Silent Brother changing diapers and wiping drool of their parchment robes?

Eva felt as though she's known the inhabitants of the New York Institute all her life, but in reality, the Lightwoods, their children, and Hodge Starkweather arrived when she was nearly three-years old. Eva doesn't even recall who took care of her for those first few years; she only remembered a happy childhood of playing outside and sometimes going to a nearby park to ride the swings with Alec and Izzy, playing with Max as a toddler, Maryse trying to find a way to tame Eva's unruly curly hair, sneaking out of the Institute with Izzy to go catch pixies in Central Park or spot mermaids in the Hudson River and then having Alec tell on them and get grounded as a result.

Lessons and training were mandatory and daily, but Eva and the Lightwoods never really minded. Hodge was never strict and let them get a nap or two in when he went off on history tangents, but he was a good teacher and they were good students, drinking up every fact and rune they could. Eva was aware he had a soft spot for her, noticing he never doted on the Lightwoods as much as he did with her. She knew he loved them all and he treated them all fairly in training and during lessons, but he acted like a mentor with the Lightwoods, but almost like a father with her.

"Don't play with your food, Eva," Hodge would scold lightly when she began pushing vegetables around her plate, or when she was sick, he'd become endearingly insufferable. "I'll make you some tisane for your allergies and—by the Angel, you have a fever! I'll make something for that too, and here's a box of tissues in case you need to sneeze, and don't forget to wash your hands afterwards."

She received her first rune when she turned ten on the tenth of August—the day she was found. The inky black eye was carved onto the back of her right hand by a Silent Brother, and she remembered teasing Alec about getting it first. He was scheduled to be runed next month, but he never really did understand irony.

"Of course you'll get runed first," he'd said in his matter-of-fact way. "You're older than me."

Jace Wayland arrived at the Institute not too long after that with his quips and sass, and Alec became much more aware of jokes and witty banter, but he was still dry as an overcooked turkey. Izzy; however, was a different matter.

All the mischief Eva ever got in trouble for, Izzy was at her side for it all. When it was time to spar in the training room, Izzy would insist it be with Eva, and vice versa. They loved going to the mall together to browse the endless racks of clothing and try them on. They had very different fashion styles: Izzy lived for the latest trends she saw in magazines and loved anything that sparkled and showed way too much skin while Eva loved to feel cozy in sweaters and scarves and had way too many Chelsea boots in her closet. They played with makeup together, learning the art of the perfect winged eyeliner by using each other as canvases, and using enough smudged eyeshadow to look like raccoons during that short-lived scene phase they went through. Eva would never forget Hodge's horrified reaction while Maryse, already accustomed to her daughter's strange tastes, brushed it aside.

Following that phase she and Izzy never want to look back on again, Eva's hair was heat-damaged and dull with all the colored box dyes. It was Izzy who chopped away at it, leaving her with what looked like a halo of curls around her head.

"I like your hair; you can do so much with it," Izzy said, finding it amusing how she'd pull one of Eva's ringlet curls straight and when she released it, it would coil back into a perfect spiral. "Mine is so straight and I can never get it to curl! And I can never wash it once a week like you do! I'd be able to fry an egg with my greasy scalp."

By the age of sixteen, Eva's hair had grown just above her shoulders and looked shiny and healthy. She always spent hours with Hodge in the greenhouse, picking out the best ingredients for hair products that hydrated her curls, strengthened them, added shine, and prevented frizz during the summer months.

"Extracts from jojoba and aloe should help, and coconut, avocado, and olive oils are also beneficial for hydration," Hodge would tell her, expertly picking apart said ingredients. "I can make it smell like gardenias if you'd like; I know they're your favorite."

When Eva had just turned seventeen, she made one of the most important decisions of her life. She managed to muster up her courage as she watched Izzy fuss over which of the two dresses she was going to buy—though Eva knew that by the end of it, she would just get both.

"Do you want to be parabatai?"

The dresses slipped out of Izzy's hands, their wooden hangers clanking loudly on the floor. "What?"

"Parabatai. Would you like to be parabatai?"

Izzy looked absolutely stunned, but it had quickly dissolved from her features as she carelessly tossed her ink black hair over her shoulder, "Yeah, sure."

Her aloofness was to be expected; Izzy hated showing emotions that made her seem vulnerable, even around Eva who knew her better than her own mother did. Under it all, Eva knew she was flattered and ecstatic and feeling the warmth you feel when someone does something selfless for you. Eva has always been hyper-aware of people's emotions, even when they desperately tried to hide them. She playfully called it a sixth sense.

Just two weeks later, Izzy and Eva stepped into the flaming ring together and said their vows, holding each other's hands as if they were going to arm wrestle. Eva could barely keep the smile off her face, and Izzy was determined not to let tears smudge her mascara.

Entreat me not to leave thee,

Or return from following after thee

For whither thou goest, I will go,

And where thou lodgest, I will lodge.

Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.

Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried.

The Angel do so to me, and more also,

If aught but death part thee and me.

"Where do you want it?" Izzy asked, raising her stele. "Your arm?"

"Make it a tramp stamp," Eva joked, pulled up her thin sweater and whirled around to expose her lower back to her parabatai. Izzy burst into laughter, and while most of the Council members witnessing the ceremony were confused, the few that were aware of mundane trends looked absolutely horrified. Satisfied with everyone's reactions, Eva let her sweater fall back down and instead, turned and pulled down her neckline. Izzy carved the parabatai rune below her right collarbone. In turn, Eva carved Izzy's rune on her right bicep.

"I don't feel any different," Izzy said when they'd returned to the Institute. Her voice echoed through the elevated roof of the library.

Eva laughed. "You think Hodge lied to us and being parabatai is just a novelty thing?"

"It's rude to talk about people when they're not in the room."

The girls jumped and looked up to see Hodge leaning against the railing of the grand library's second floor, Hugo perched on his injured shoulder and sleeping soundly. He was looking down at them under his glasses, but his eyes were twinkling with amusement. He very rarely scolded them and meant it.

"Well, you're in the room, so it doesn't count!" Eva teased. "You're feeling better?"

"Quite," he said and averted his eyes. Eva wanted him present at her parabatai ceremony to be her witness, but he said he'd come down with a fever and quarantined himself in his room. Eva couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but under the layers of emotional barriers that surrounded Hodge Starkweather, she felt a very strange pang she could only describe as guilt.