“Except Art,” I finish.
Juliette’s eyes narrow.
The back door opens and we flinch, but it’s Lance and Roman again, grim-faced.
“He’s gone,” Roman says. “Footprints east, disappear at the road. Car waiting.”
“Okay, everybody out,” Lance says.
Juliette scoffs. “If you think we’re leaving after that—”
“Little Rose,” Roman says softly, pulling her close. “Your brother’s got it. He’ll call if he needs us.” A sharp look at Lance. “Right?”
Lance jerks his chin.
Juliette pulls me into a fierce hug. “Wear the teal. Call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
Felicity squeezes my arm. “If he goes full emotionally repressed Calloway, text me. I’ll bring tequila and a shovel.”
They leave, and it’s just me and Lance and silence.
He locks the door. Checks windows. Moves through the cabin like he’s securing a perimeter, not a home.
“Art can’t knowweknow he lied,” he says, his back to me. “You’ve got to act like everything’s fine at the party.”
“Maybe he didn’t lie. Maybe he was lied to.”
“Maybe.” He rubs his chin. “I hope so.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to dress up and smile and be on his arm like I’m not…”Terrified.
His face softens. “I’m not asking you to pretend it didn’t happen. I’m asking you to help me keep whoever’s doing this from realizing they’ve lost the advantage.”
“So tomorrow I just laugh and be Art’s girlfriend?”
“Tomorrow Art gets to be the luckiest guy in the room. And then after, I’ll get you to Boston.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I guess so.”
The teal dress catches the lamplight from the couch. It’s stillsobeautiful. But it feels like armor now—thin and glittering and not nearly enough.
“Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
He settles into the armchair by the window like he’s preparing for a siege. I want to tell him he needs rest, too. That he can’t protect me from everything.
But the words won’t come.
So I gather the dress in my arms, breathing in the cedar already clinging to the fabric, and walk down the hall.
I don’t sleep. I lie in the dark and think about pale eyes in the tree line. A dress the color of the ocean. A man keeping watch in the next room, convinced he’s nothing but a knight to be sacrificed.
About Juliette’s words:I can’t just sit here and watch him drown.
Neither can I.
But underneath the fear, there’s something worth holding on to. Juliette’s hug. Felicity’s humor. The way Lance looked at me when he came through that door.
