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Startled, she begins scanning the alleyway. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m putting you in danger.” I’m putting all of us in danger.What was I thinking?

The panic in her eyes is released by a snort. “I signed up for this, Princess. You don’t need to worry about me.” She pulls up her uniform skirt, revealing a pistol strapped to her thigh. “I’m prepared.”

I gape at the gun. “Jesus.”

Sighing, she says, “I get that you’re freaking out, but we do need to hurry. These things have a way of going sideways when sketchy people lurk in alleyways for too long.” She starts to open the door, but I grab her arm.

“You’re not coming in,” I insist, my voice brooking no argument. “Stay here. Lock the doors. I’ll only be a minute.”

She searches my eyes. “Are you sure?”

Releasing her arm, I say, “This is my home, Stella. I’m safer here than anywhere in Forsyth.” But my hole is already deep enough, and I’m not dragging her in further.

I get out of the car and approach Ballsack, who’s still holding the door open.

“Seriously,Eugene?”

His eyes widen at the use of his real name. “Sorry, Ver. I was sworn to secrecy. There was a ceremony and everything. I mean… it was pretty much just a bunch of pretty girls getting me shitfaced, but trust me when I say it all felt very official.”

I roll my eyes. “Does she know I’m coming?”

He nods. “In the lounge.”

I sigh and glance over my shoulder at the rusty little car. “Keep an eye on her, would you? I’ll only be a minute.”

He gives me a grin much like the one Stella had, crooked and wily. “You got it, Princess.”

Trying to remember why I’m here in the first place, I march down the hall and enter the lounge, determined not to get distracted by the posters on the wall or the memories of romping around here as a middle schooler.

When I get there, Lavinia is waiting.

Alone.

“Hey,” she says, shooting to her feet. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

I want to blast her for what I just found out. Like, lose my fucking shit. They have someone in the Palace with me? And no one said anything?

I take a deep, steadying breath.

“Officially?” I say, grabbing a sequined thong out of the lost and found box. “I forgot this last night.” Knitting her eyebrows together, she stares at the thong, and I add, “Unofficially, I think I fucked up.”

“Explain,” she says, sitting in one of the makeup chairs. Pointing to the one across from her, she watches carefully as I take it.

Taking another deep breath, I say, “Last night, when I was…withPace, he was asking me all these questions.”

Her head tilts. “What kinds of questions?”

“About family dinner—and you.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Me? Specifically?”

I look down at my hands. “He thinks you’re a traitor. I mean, he thinksI’ma traitor, so this is pretty on brand for him, but I don’t know. He just wouldn’t let it go.” Glancing up, I confess, “He freaked me out.”

She leans back, thinking. “Pace just got out of prison, right?”

“Yeah.”