Page 121 of Queen of Volts

If she and Arabella won, then they would lose.

“I’m going to the pre-opening,” Lola told her seriously.

Arabella’s eyes widened. “But what if it’s a trap?”

“I don’t think it is. I think you’re being...” Lola caught herself before she said the word, knowing how it would make her sound.

“A monster,” Arabella finished for her, gritting her teeth.

“What? That wasn’t what I was going to—”

“Look, I can’t help the things that happened to me,” Arabella snapped. “I can’t help the choices I made to survive.”

Lola paused. She knew Arabella. She knew Arabella’s anger. But even if Lolawasthe worst version of herself, she still valued cleverness, impartiality, truth—the same as she always had. And Arabella’s truth hung plainly in her words.

“I don’t know why it’smeyou’re always trying to prove yourself to, but for what it’s worth, if you were truly forced into the wrongs you’ve done, you wouldn’t have called them choices,” Lola said softly, and Arabella didn’t respond, only squeezed her hands into fists and looked away. “I’ll be back but...I’m making a choice of my own.”

Then she grabbed the invitation, her wallet, and her harmonica, and she walked out the door.

It was an outrageous venue, which didn’t surprise Lola. Of course Levi would pick something revoltingly ostentatious. The slanting black-and-white stripes along the brick reminded Lola of a fun house, the flag streamers suited for a carnival. Lola waited at the edge of the crowd gathered outside, crinkling her nose at the reek of salt water, cigarettes, and bathroom cologne. She’d never liked beaches, but she still thought New Reynes had ruined a perfectly good one.

Lola wished the line weren’t so long, forcing her to wait with her thoughts.

Maybe it’d been a mistake to leave Arabella after Arabella had made such a grand promise to her, but now all Lola could think about was that version of herself that Arabella remembered. In that version, Enne had still betrayed her. Her brothers had still abandoned her, lied to her. But somehow Lola had found a way to be happy.

If Lola was still that person, who would she have trusted: the monster so like herself, who treated Lola like a moral compass; or the girl who still loved her, even if Lola couldn’t remember?

Someone tugged on her arm, jerking Lola out of her thoughts. She turned to face Enne, only Enne looked entirely different from the last time she’d seen her. She wore colored contacts again, and her hair—once spilling down her back—had been sliced to her chin and dyed a brassy sort of blond. Lola might not have recognized her had she known many people only tall enough to reach her shoulder.

“Lola,” Enne breathed, then she threw her arms around her before Lola could object. She smelled faintly of bleach.

“’Lo,” Lola mumbled. “You look...different.”

Enne’s smile wobbled. “I hate it, but at least I don’t look like my wanted poster anymore, right?” Lola considered complimenting her on it, if only to make her feel better, but that would mean pretending that they were normal. And they weren’t. “Am I allowed to ask you how you are? Where you’re staying?”

Lola rolled her eyes. “You know where I’m staying. Tock told you.”

“Yes, well...” Enne pursed her lips. “It’s polite to make conversation.”

Levi had told Lola that Enne was improved since they’d last seen one another, and she did sound like her old self. But Lola didn’t think that was enough to forgive her. Lola didn’t think any relationship initially forged by a weapon pressed against her throat deserved to be salvaged.

But maybe these were the thoughts of thisnewversion of Lola. Lola cursed inwardly. How could she decide who to trust if she couldn’t even trust herself?

“Come on,” Enne said, linking Lola’s arm with hers and leading her to the front of the line and past the casino’s glossy double doors.

The inside was no less horrible than the outside—perhaps more so, with its overabundance of decorations, drapes dripping from the walls like licorice lacquer. Examining the guests around her, Lola realized she was underdressed, but she didn’t have a suit in her current apartment, and she hadn’t expected such an extravagant affair to take place on what was really just a two-mile slab of wood along the city’s edge, whitewashed to hide the rot.

“Pretty impressive,” Lola lied, also to make conversation.

“Grace and Roy are here, if you’d like to see them,” Enne told her. She looked nervous, the way she fiddled with her necklace—a silver choker, not her usual pearls.

It might’ve been nice to see her old friends, but Lola had needed to talk herself up just to speak to Enne. She wasn’t ready for everyone. Not yet.

“Isn’t there someplace here that’s quiet?” Lola asked. “Where we can talk?” Even with Enne at her left side, it was difficult to hear.

Enne’s shoulders relaxed. “Yes, of course. We can go upstairs.”

They climbed up the grand staircase to the second floor, which was—in Lola’s opinion—no quieter, with the music from downstairs echoing through the halls. But it was more private. Enne led her to a lounge at the hallway’s end, and Lola sat awkwardly on a sofa, Enne beside her. She wondered if Tock was here. This was an Irons establishment, so she probably was.