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‘We need more cash,’ she said after a moment, her voice strangely neutral.

‘And staying in an expensive hotel is going to solve that?’ I retorted.

‘Jessie … How morally opposed are you to a little light theft?’

I sat down on the bed. ‘Brooke.’

‘Just a little,’ she said, holding up her hands. ‘You want to tell me those guys downstairs can’t afford to lose the contents of their wallets?’

She was so frustrating I wanted to strangle her. And also kiss that smug expression right off her face. But mostly strangle her.

‘How?’ I asked wearily.

‘I’m going to put on my ugly St. Catherine’s shoes, white shirt and black skirt and pretend to be staff.’ She made it sound so easy.

‘And then what?’

‘Start in the coat-check area next to the ballroom, or wherever they’re having dinner tonight. I need you to work the lobby bar.’

‘You want me tohelp?’ I couldn’t stop the sudden rush of panic and my fingers curled into fists around the comforter. ‘Oh no, Brooke. That’s really not a good idea.’

‘You look like the most innocent person who’s ever existed. You’re gonna be great.’

‘I can’t,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m not like you, Brooke. I can’t do that.’

‘You can,’ she said, soothing and reassuring, petting the air in front of me. ‘I promise. We’ll wait until later, when they’re all blind drunk, and it’ll be the easiest thing you ever did.’

‘You’ve done this before.’

She nodded. ‘Yeah, I used to do it with my cousin for fun.’

For fun.

Spoiled little rich kids who could afford to get caught, who knew their parents would pay the fines and drive them to community service if they were given more than just a slap on the wrist.

The anger was bubbling in my stomach, ready to spill up and out if I let it.

Kids like Brooke and her privileged cousin would never know what people from my side of town had to go through, what would happen to people like me if we were caught lifting wallets. She could do stuff like this for fun, but I couldn’t, and, for just a second, I resented her for it.

It wasn’t fair.

But then, life wasn’t fair.

And maybe this was my chance at righting some of those wrongs. After all, the guys in their designer suits were from Brooke’s side of town, not mine.

I shook my head, unable to reconcile my resistance with Brooke’s convincing. ‘We’ll never get away with it.’

‘We need cash for when we get to Orlando. We have enough to get down to Florida, but once we’re there, motels are going to get really expensive.’

‘No one carries cash anymore, Brooke. They pay for stuff with their credit cards.’

‘These guys will,’ she said. ‘Especially at the bar. Especially for tipping.’

‘How do you know all this?’

‘I’ll explain later.’

I flopped back onto the bed, groaning. ‘Brooke. Seriously.’