Page 87 of The Towering Sky

Her contacts lit up a third time, and Calliope felt a cold chill trace down her back.

“Sorry,” she murmured with a little jerk of her head and turned aside to accept the ping. Her heart pounded in her rib cage.

“Hey, sweetie.” Elise’s voice was oddly strained and muffled. Calliope realized with a pang that she was hiding this ping fromNadav. “Something has happened. It’s Livya.”

Maybe Livya was seriously ill. “Is she in the hospital?”

“No. Although that’s where you are supposed to be, if you recall.” Elise sighed. “You aren’t reading to sick children, are you?”

“Look, Mom, I—”

“I thought I told you no side cons.”

“This isn’t aside con!” Calliope hissed, momentarily forgetting that she was in a public place. She cupped her hand around her mouth to hide her words. “I actually like him, okay?”

Elise pretended not to hear that. “Livya set you up, sweetie. I’m pretty sure she faked being sick to lay a trap for you and see if you would sneak out.”

“Oh my god.” Calliope staggered a step back.

“Please tell me you aren’t at the inauguration ball.”

Calliope couldn’t answer, because she didn’t want to lie to her mom.

“Leave right now,” Elise said after a moment. “I’ll cover for you until you’re home.”

And then she abruptly ended the ping.

Calliope shook her head. She should have seen this coming. She, who could always predict other people’s reactions, who prided herself on her cool levelheadedness—how had she been outwitted by Livya Mizrahi?

“Everything okay?” Brice asked.

Calliope bit her lip. She let her eyes dart quickly around the room, taking it all in—the lights, the glittering gowns, the amphitheater of space filled with people. The echo of music and gossip and delicate martini laughter. And yet, just as she had at the train station last week, Calliope felt irrevocably distant from these people.

I actually like him, she had said to her mom, and it was true.She really liked Brice, more than she had ever allowed herself to like anyone, and she liked the idea of continuing to see him into the future.

But EliselovedNadav, and Calliope had promised not to screw it up for her.

“I’m so sorry. I have to go,” she whispered, then turned to leave the party as quickly as she could.

AVERY

“I’M PROUD OFmy father for everything he’s already done for the city of New York and everything he plans to do.” Avery forced herself to smile, her mouth spitting out the pre-approved sound bytes from her father’s PR team. “I know that his impact on the city will continue to be monumental.”

“And yet you’re planning to move to England?” the reporter pressed. A zetta hovered near Avery’s mouth to capture her response.

“I’m hoping to attend Oxford, if I get in,” Avery said, her teeth still clenched in that smile. She didn’t really see what her college plans had to do with her father’s inauguration. And how did they know about Oxford, anyway? Her application status was supposed to be confidential. One of her friends must have let the rumor get out—or worse, someone on the streets of Oxford had spotted her and recognized her. Which meant that Oxford wasn’t nearly as removed from it all as Avery had hoped.

“New York would be devastated to lose you,” the reporter simpered. She had bronzed skin and jet-black hair that was styled into shining waves. “Speaking of, here’s your brother. Perhaps he can join you to—”

“Will you excuse me?” Avery said smoothly, ducking to one side. Like hell did she want to stand here and be co-interviewed with Atlas. After that interview at the police station this afternoon, she was already at breaking point. She hadn’t told the detectives anything incriminating, but it had still rattled her.

The moment she got back home, Avery had immediately messaged Watt. For some reason she’d wanted to keep it between the two of them, rather than involving Rylin—or Leda. There was no predicting Leda’s erratic behavior in situations like this. Besides, Avery couldn’t shake the sense that Leda was still the one in the greatest danger.

She knew that Watt, no matter what, would have Leda’s best interests at heart.

I don’t think they know anything—do you?she had asked him. After all, the police weren’t really accusing her of anything. It was more as if they were prodding her, fishing for something without fully knowing what it was.

I’m working on it, Watt had said obliquely. I’ll let you know what I find.