She shook her head. Maybe it was good luck, getting a familiar sign from her past. Maybe this mission would start to go right from now on. She switched out her phone, then opened a small, hidden pocket sewn onto the inside of her pants’ waist and dropped the items in. When sheclipped it back into place, it seemed to disappear into the billowing fabric, untraceable against the interior’s anti-surveillance mesh.
Someone else stepped into the bathroom. Clicking heels echoed against the tiles. Sydney flushed the toilet once and let the noise of it cover the sound of her ripping the parcel into tiny pieces.
Then she stepped out.
And ran right into Penelope Morrison.
15
More Similar Than Not
Penelope startled by the sinks at the sight of her. The girl was already in costume—a black and white dress that shimmered under the light, along with an elegant silver and gold headpiece that combined the circle of a sun and the crescent of a moon. A jeweled hairpin gleamed beside her ear.
This bathroom was located outside the security area; Sydney had headed here intentionally, prepared to give the excuse to anyone who asked that she was looking for a more private space than the crowded rooms beyond the line.
What was Penelope doing here?
Penelope blinked at her and looked quickly away. Immediately, Sydney could tell that the girl had been sobbing; her eyes were still red, and her makeup had smudged slightly in the corners.
Sydney gave her a reassuring smile and pretended she hadn’t noticed anything.
“You’re Winter Young’s bodyguard, right?” Penelope said after a moment’s hesitation, looking at Sydney through the mirror with her wide eyes. “Ashley?”
“Yes, Ms. Morrison,” Sydney said as she washed her hands beside the girl.
“You’re not going to tell my father’s crew I’m in here, are you?”
She shook her head. “I’m Mr. Young’s handler, miss, not yours.”
At that, Penelope seemed to sag with relief. A little breath escaped her. “Thanks,” she said with a rueful laugh, and returned to fixing the corners of her makeup. “I’m just trying to escape them.” She paused, then smiled at Ashley’s dress. “You look amazing, by the way. I love the antlers.”
“Thank you.” Sydney was careful to keep her eyes lowered, her posture almost subservient, as she washed her hands. “Just following Mr. Morrison’s instructions to have the guards match the theme.”
“Actually, it was my instructions.” Penelope gave her a sheepish grin. “I didn’t want a hundred of my father’s men in black suits breaking up the look of my party. They make me nervous. I’m sorry you got caught up in that—I know it sounds obnoxious.”
Sydney laughed a little. “You don’t need to apologize for giving me an excuse to dress up.”
At that, an eager light appeared in her eyes, cutting through her sadness from a moment ago. “Is Winter dressed up already, too?”
“They’re prepping him now,” Sydney said, giving her a wink. “You must be excited.”
Penelope sucked her breath in and lowered her eyes shyly, unable to hold back a smile. “He’s the best part of this birthday,” she admitted.
Sydney felt a pang of pity for the girl. For the star of the occasion, she didn’t seem ecstatic about celebrating. Something about the way Penelope glanced nervously around like a trapped bird reminded Sydney of her own past, of feeling like she was living a life she couldn’t escape.
At least Sydney knew the truth of who her father was.
Poor rich people,she told herself wryly. She watched the girl coil an errant strand up onto her head, then glanced at the door.
“You know,” Sydney said, “if I run into some of your father’s guards, I can tell them you’re somewhere else. Give you a little extra time to yourself.”
Penelope grabbed a towel to dry her hands. “That’s kind of you to offer,” she said, casting her a grateful glance.
Sydney shrugged. “I’m used to hiding from fathers, too,” she replied.
She had shared this little piece of herself with Penelope as a tactic, part of drawing in the girl’s trust. But the way Penelope’s wide eyes turned to her in empathy was so genuine that Sydney felt a hint of shame.
Penelope gave her a small, sad smile. “We’re the same, then,” she said.
