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The gala is spectacular.I actually have a hard time believing it’s all real–that I’m at a party in L.A. with movie stars and singers and models. It’s an absolute fever dream, laced with expensive champagne and gold velvet couches and designer gowns that probably cost more than I’ll make in a year at my new job with the city.

The best part of it all is Ben though. The way he pulls off a tux and champagne flute is truly incredible. If I didn’t know any better, I’d definitely assume he was one of the people who paid upwards of $5,000 per ticket to be here, and he’s having the time of his life, chatting up celebrities with absolutely no fear. He deserves this too, after spending the last few months beating himself up about Annie. If it weren’t for the job Molly found him, coaching youth soccer on weekends and teaching senior exercise classes three days a week, I don’t know what would’ve happened. He took everything so hard, I was worried about keeping him above water. Of course, it was all too easy for me to take care of him the way he took care of me when I was at my lowest–when we were complete strangers. I can truly never repay him for that, but damn, I love trying. I love him more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone. Now, I just hope I’m enough to keep him on his feet, as much as we both miss her.

I empty my champagne glass and search the crowd for my friends. Aileen couldn’t stomach the thought of attending a party like this, so she sent Mak and Jaime to help me represent the shelter. They were each allowed a plus one, so Skyla is here, doggedly assisting Zayd in his ongoing quest for a rich, West Coast ‘Zaddy’, whatever that means. I’m in a tux too, which is disgustingly out of my comfort zone, but I just keep telling myself that it’s for a good cause. Every hour since the party started, Santino or Yelena have found us in the crowd to let us know how much money has been raised so far. It’s a mind-boggling amount, and I can’t even bring myself to tell Aileen yet, because I think she might have a heart attack.

“Your glass is looking a little neglected there,osito,” says a husky voice in my ear. I twist my head to find Ben snaking one arm around my waist, clutching his own champagne flute, while reaching around my other side to give me a refill. Once my glass is sparkling again, I turn to face him.

“I didn’t think they were handing out entire bottles,” I laugh. He plants a sweet, bubbly kiss on my lips, then pulls his sleeve back to show off the HERO bracelet that Tabby’s friend made us.

“This is my exclusive, VIP wristband,” he says. “It gets meanythingI want.” His mouth moves to my neck, and my face burns. We’re standing off to the side of the room, and no one is watching, but Ben’s taste for PDA still makes me a little queasy. Even in a place where at least half the crowd is probably some flavor of not-straight, I have to fight my instinct to pull away.

“I think being the guest of honor is what’s getting you anything you want tonight,” I tell him, taking a large gulp of champagne so I can get on his level. “That, and how fucking good you look. You should wear a tux more often.”

He leans in and brushes his fingers over my neck. “If you wanna see me in a tux again, you’re gonna have to marry me.”

“That’s a hell of a way to propose,” I say with a smirk. A hungry smile spreads across his face, and he clunks the empty champagne bottle down on a nearby table.

“Take me upstairs and I’ll even get down on one knee,” he whispers, wrapping a hand around the back of my neck and pulling me against his body. “Or both knees. Hands and knees. Anything you want.”

“You promised your sister we’d stay until at least one o’clock,” I remind him. “It’s not even midnight yet.”

“Fuck that,” he breathes between my lips. “I need you so goddamn bad, Theo. Come on.” He reaches for my hand, and I’m definitely going to let him take me up to our hotel room, but then we see Yelena fighting through the crowd and making a beeline for us. She looks a little stressed, so I take another gulp of champagne.

“Ben! Hey!” she calls, and he lets out a quiet groan.

“You’re like a fucking shark, you know that? You can smell an opportunity to cock block a mile away.”

Yelena just rolls her eyes. “Oh, my apologies, just trying to play party plannerandhostessandprivate fucking security. I need you to come to the front door for a minute and deal with a…situation.”

“What situation?” Ben grumbles.

“This situation,” Yelena says, holding up what looks like a driver’s license. “This crazy girl is at the door, insisting that she knows the two of you. She’s not on the list, so obviously, she’s not getting in, but she’s got this awful fake ID that has both your names on it. I just need you to–”

“Where did you get this?” Ben asks, his voice choked as he snatches the card from Yelena. She looks offended and confused, but my heart strains against my chest as I look over his shoulder.

It looks just like the fake ID he made for Annie so she could drink with us, except that this one seems legit, and the picture is slightly different. But it has the name she loved so much, Annika Keating de la Cruz, and the birthday I gave her—May 4th, because it’s Star Wars Day.

Ben looks up at his sister and repeats, “Where the fuck did you get this?”

“I told you, stupid! There’s a weird stalker girl at the front door, and that was the ID she gave me! She’s legitimately insane though, cursing and trying to fight the security guys.”

“Is that her? Does she look like the girl in this photo?” Ben asks, already moving toward the stairs that lead to the hotel’s front entrance.

“Yes,” Yelena answers. “Do you actually know her?”

Ben looks at me, his eyes wild and full of hope. I want to pull him back, tell him that there’s absolutely no way it’s really her, but I’m right there beside him as we push our way through the crowd.

“We’ll take care of it, Yelly!” he calls over his shoulder. She just shrugs and moves away. Ben’s squeezing my hand so tight I think he might break my fingers, and neither of us speaks until we’re on the stairs.

“It can’t be her,” I mutter. “Ben…”

“It has to be,” he snaps. “Ithasto be, Theo! She had the ID on her when we went into the shelter that morning! And look at this photo.” He shoves it into my hands and continues walking. I keep pace beside him, but I don’t look at it. I can’t, because if it’s not her, it’ll just tear me apart all over again. Instead, I put it in my pocket and rub the hand-shaped scar above my heart.

Please,I pray silently,let it be her. For his sake, if not for mine.

At the top of the stairs, we race down a long hallway and then practically fly up another set of stairs into the hotel lobby. There’s a checkpoint set up to one side of the front desk, and five big guys in contract security uniforms are standing in front of the metal detector. They’re clearly all talking to the same person, but I can’t see who it is until Ben yells.

“Annie?!”