Carter sank unsteadily onto a seat. Sierra served her a plate and a cup of coffee.
“I don’t understand,” Carter said.
“Fitzy spiked your drink.”
Adi and Beck stopped eating.
“It’s obvious,” she said, pouring herself the rest of the coffee. “He got you a drink and threw a pill in it.”
“In a room full of people?” Adi said. “Someone would’ve seen him.”
“Do you have any other ideas how her drink was spiked?”
“She had more than one drink last night,” Beck said.
“I was with her the rest of the time.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Fitzy wouldn’t spike my drink,” Carter said quietly. “He’s not like that.”
Sierra scoffed, leaning back on the kitchen counter as she sipped her coffee.
Carter frowned. “Why are you so against him?”
“Someone here killed Alicia.”
“Yeah,you!” shouted Carter. But then she flinched and pressed a hand to her temple. “At least, we think so. Is that what we still think?” She looked to Beck and Adi for confirmation. Adi shrugged, and Beck ducked his head to shovel more food into his mouth. Carter groaned. “My head hurts.”
“Eat,” Sierra ordered, as there was a sharp knock on the front door. She glanced out the window, swore under her breath, and went to unlock it. “Hello, Ranielle.”
Ranielle Russell, in a forest-green power suit, burst past her, a long, manicured fingernail pointing at Carter.“You.”
Carter looked like a rabbit caught in a snare.
“Out,” Ranielle said. “Pack your bags. You’re gone.”
“Hang on—” Adi started, half getting out of his chair.
“Sit down, or you’re gone, too.” Ranielle’s knife-sharp glare returned to Carter. “We have rules on this show for a reason, and you think because you’re a filthy little influencer you can break them?”
“I—I—didn’t—” Carter’s eyes were wet.
“Save it. You’re done. Delete your account. Stay off social media.” Ranielle’s lips curved into a cruel smile. “You’re going to want to, anyway, after the videos that have been posted.”
Carter let out a horrified sob.
“Oh, come off the power trip,” Sierra said, slamming the door shut. “She didn’t touch any alcohol. Her drink was spiked. Byyourhost.”
At this, Ranielle’s expression flickered. It was incredibly brief, but Sierra was watching for it. The uncertainty. The . . . panic?
Sierra added with a snarl, “If you take Carter out of the game, you can be sure it’ll come out how dodgy your precious James Fitzgerald is.”
“Fitzy?” Of all things, Ranielle laughed. Her tense posture relaxed. “Nice try, Sierra.”
“He was the one who ordered her drink.”
“Fitzy’s under a stricter contract than you, and has way more to lose. Besides, the bar staff was told to watch everyone like a hawk. The last thing we need is more bad publicity.” At this, Ranielle scoffed. “So much for that.”
