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My screen buzzes in my pocket, and I freeze when I see a message waiting from an unknown number.

For a second, I just stare at it, my heart pounding hard enough that my fingers barely work when I drag the screen open.

you should be more careful after dark

Fear crawls cold and ugly down my spine, my thumb hovering over the screen for a second before I lock it again.

I don't know who sent it, only that somebody was in that library, watching me long enough to take a picture and wanting me to know they did.

I shove the multi-slate back into my pocket, fumble my way inside, and slide the door closed behind me. Then I brace both hands against the desk and force myself to breathe.

In. Hold. Out.

Again.

The band pulses steadily against my wrist while I count the breaths and wait for the tight panic in my chest to loosen.

By the time I'm back in bed, the bitter taste still sits heavy in my mouth, but my pulse has finally eased enough to stop feeling dangerous.

I'm wide awake. And I've stopped believing in luck.

7

CIARAN

Something’s up. That much is clear.

The Reach reception is coming up fast, and everyone in my family is losing their minds in their own special way. Dad has been buried in guest confirmations for days. Mom keeps changing her mind about what she’s playing for the opening concert. Half the city seems determined to invite itself.

And somehow I’m still thinking about Rowan, a fact I’m finding increasingly annoying.

I glance at my multi-slate and find exactly what I expected: nothing. Not that I expected anything different.

The little musician disappeared into the library before dawn and came back looking half-haunted. What the fuck was he doing in there?

Lucan is sprawled across the couch when I walk in, holo screen balanced on one knee. “You know your little musician isn’t the only suspicious one, right?”

I glance at him. “What are you talking about?”

“His friend. Guy gambles like a man running out of options.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Since when are you tracking his finances?”

“Since he started throwing money onto my tables.”

That gets an unwilling snort out of me. “Sounds like you’ve adopted him.”

Lucan answers by lifting a single finger without looking up from the holo.

Tossing my empty can into the bin, I head for the door.

“Where are you going, dude?” he calls after me.

“For a swim.”

“For a swim?” I can practically feel his eyeballs rolling. “It’s like eleven at night. The pool’s closed, man.”

But there’s one little duck still playing out there.