Page 99

“I have to leave,” I said, anxiety making my breath hard to come by.

“Yes, we’d better get out of here,” Fiona said, taking my hand.

“You’re leaving? Now?” Ryan said.

“I’m sorry. Marcus is waiting.”

Ryan followed after us as we left the room. “Why did you do that?” he asked Fiona.

“I did not pull that tree down.”

“You know what I mean,” he said.

She smiled back at him. “Do I?”

We made it to the adult room, which was calm compared to the teen one and the chaos Fiona had created.

But just as we reached the curtain that led to our escape, someone called out, “Shut the doors!” They must’ve discovered what had happened in the other room.

The panic in my chest reached a crescendo as the music onstage went completely silent. No, no, no, no. They’d unmask us. Question us. I couldn’t be here when that happened. They’d call my moms. Everything would be exposed.

I rushed through the curtain, me pulling Fiona this time.

“Did you do this?” a voice asked. I turned to see Phillip following us.

“No,” I said, not slowing my walk.

“Yeah, right,” he said.

“Let them go,” Ryan barked at him.

Someone must’ve turned on all the lights in the building because the back corridor was now bright.

I headed for the glowing exit. I walked a few more steps and realized Ryan wasn’t following anymore. I turned. He’d stopped in the middle of the hall. He was looking back at Phillip, who lingered by the curtain.

“Come with me,” I said to Ryan.

Before he could answer, Mrs. O’Leary pushed through the curtain and past Phillip. “What’s going on back here?” Her eyes zeroed in on me and Fiona, who were the closest to the door. We were still masked. “Do not leave!” she said. “Who are you?”

We didn’t answer.

“Take your masks off!” she demanded.

I was shaking. I backed up a few steps, slowly, hoping she wouldn’t chase after me. I clenched my fists, wondering if it was pointless either way—was Phillip going to out me?

Ryan took a deep breath. I watched his shoulders rise and fall. Then he took off his mask. “It’s me, Mrs. O’Leary,” he said.

“Ryan?” she asked in surprise.

“I didn’t do that, though.” He nodded back toward the ballroom. “The banner.”

“I wouldn’t think so,” she said.

I was still backing up. Ryan met my gaze, and I could tell that he wanted me to unmask as well, reveal my identity, claim my innocence. He thought we were the same, that Mrs. O’Leary would let me go, not blame me. Was this how he wanted our parents to find out? I couldn’t do that to mine.

His eyes were soft, pleading.

I’m sorry, I mouthed and then ran, Fiona close on my heels.