I sidle up to my mom and lay my hand on her shoulder, over the cool silk of her blouse. With a tired smile, she presses her fingers over mine. “Hey, sweetie. How’re you feeling?”

“Better. I think I might go over to Jay’s for a while. Not sure how long I’ll be there…could be a while.” I hesitate, then forge ahead, because I want to cover all the possibilities. “Maybe overnight.”

Awareness registers in her gaze. “So you two have gotten close again? You like like him the same way you used to?”

I study the pattern of the marble-topped island, tracing its creamy swirls with my finger. “What are you talking about?”

She chuckles. “I’m your mother, Daisy. I saw what you two were like back in Easley. And I saw what it did to you when he ghosted you.” Her smile vanishes as she sinks back into protective mode. “I don’t want to watch you go through that again.”

“It’s different this time. He’s got money now.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“No, I just mean he doesn’t have that barrier anymore. He can do what he wants.”

“Where did he get all this money?”

“Um…” I search for an answer that will end her questions. “Bitcoin.”

“Oh.” As expected, her curiosity fades. She doesn’t understand the entire concept of Bitcoin; not that she couldn’t grasp it, but she doesn’t want to bother trying. “Okay. Well, have fun. Stay safe.” There’s tension in her eyes, like she wants to keep me from walking out the door. George’s accident hit her hard, too, and I can tell she’s struggling to let me go.

But I’m not a teen anymore. I’m twenty-two.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to when things were simple, to the days when I was newly popular and newly rich, just starting to crush on Tom. But even then, there was something missing—so if I could go back, I think I’d rewind to the Ashmore Valley Apartments, when I wore thrifted clothes and spent all my free time with a brown-eyed boy.

I’m still chasing that feeling, that wonder and ease we had together. I felt an echo of that on the night of the Met Gala party, and if I’m honest with myself, I’m hoping to feel it again today.

Not that I deserve it, when a good kid like George died right in front of me because of something I said.

The time at the waterfall belongs in the void at the back of my brain, along with the hollow, empty chasm of my future and the oily pit of my seven years with Tom. Seems like the ugly, painful, scary zones of my mind are multiplying, expanding. Is this what adulting feels like? Because if so, I don’t want it. No thank you. I’d like to return it for a full refund, please.

When I arrive at Jay’s house, he’s pacing the front walk. There’s a stiff-looking man standing near him—the same one who called him away the other night to deal with the glutton—a tall, serious man who looks doubtfully at my haphazard parking job. “Would you like me to repark that for you, miss?”

“Why?” I say innocently, glancing at the rakish angle of my wheels. “It’s fine.”

Jay lets out a breathless, nervous laugh. “Don’t worry about it, Henry.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll just go run those errands. And remember, Lillian and Armand have the day off.”

“It’s no problem. Daisy and I can take care of ourselves,” Jay says.

Henry looks me up and down before walking toward a gray car sitting farther along the drive.

“He doesn’t approve of me, does he? Your butler?”

“He’s more like a manager. And don’t worry about it. He doesn’t approve of me either.” Jay’s long fingers twist together. “I, um, was out here checking the lawn. The landscapers cut the grass today.”

“Looks good.”

“I’m so sorry, Daisy.” He turns to me, desperation in his eyes.

“For what?”

“For climbing up that cliff after Jordan. I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know the kid would follow me. I don’t even know what came over me. I just suddenly felt this compulsion to climb.” He shakes his head.

“Compulsion, huh?” My stomach drops. “Interesting choice of words. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I think you climbed up there because of…because of me.”

His head tilts. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve recently discovered that I can be very persuasive.”

“You always were.” He sweeps open the front door of the house, allowing me to pass inside. It’s strange to be here in the daytime, when the place isn’t swarming with colorful flocks of noisy guests. The foyer is so clean and crisp and airy—and empty. The rooms opening out from it on either side are hollow shells, frozen vistas furnished in fawn and cream colors, a blank canvas for the next party. At the far end of the foyer are the double doors leading into the dance hall. They’re closed now, and silence seeps from them, filling the space between me and Jay.

I force my way through that silence. There’s been enough of it.

“Persuasive is one thing,” I say. “But being able to compel someone, to Jedi-mind-trick them into doing what I want? That’s something completely different.”

I bite my lip, watching his face for his reaction.

“Ah,” he says, glancing away. “Cody suspected you could do something like that. I thought he was paranoid. He’s sometimes paranoid, and with good reason, considering his background, but this… Wow.”

Okay, he’s not running for the hills. That’s a good thing. And Cody told him about our encounter, so he’s not completely shocked either. “You’re being very chill about this.”

“Let’s just say I’ve met a few people with interesting traits and abilities since you and I last saw each other. Sometimes this kind of thing takes a while to develop, or doesn’t show up until adulthood. So yeah, I’m surprised, but… I’ve gotten used to dealing with the unexpected.” He gives me a rueful grin. “What do you know about your ability so far?”

“Not much. I’m not even sure how it works, just that I’m slightly more persuasive or compelling than the average person when I speak in a specific tone. Most people are only moved a little bit by it, but you and Cody… It affects you two a lot more. You go into a kind of trance, and in that state, you’ll do whatever I want.”

Jay’s eyes slant to mine, and his lip hitches in a half grin. “So what have you made me do? Anything fun?”

I smack his arm lightly. “It’s not a joke! You should be a lot more upset at me for using my voice on you.”

“But you weren’t really sure about it, right? You didn’t know exactly what you were doing.”

“I started to figure it out when I was with Cody. I thought maybe he was extra suggestible to hypnosis, and maybe he’d taken something that increased the effect of my voice—some type of drug?”

“Cody doesn’t do drugs. The occasional joint, but no hard stuff.”

“Then we’re back to my hypnosis theory. I’m no expert on hypnosis, but I watched a documentary on it once, and my grandmother was into it for years. My dad tells stories about her making people do ridiculous things during her shows.”

Jay looks at me sharply. “Your grandmother was a hypnotist?”

“Yeah. She read tarot cards, told fortunes, and did mentalism stuff, too. But her big thing was hypnotism. My dad hated everything about her work. The kids at his school used to make fun of him because of what she did. It’s one reason he’s so firmly grounded in all things science.”

“What was your grandmother’s name? Did I ever meet her?”

“No, and I barely knew her myself. She died when I was seven.”

Jay’s sharp canines rake over his lower lip, and a subtle warmth surges inside me. I want to move closer, to kiss that pretty mouth of his and test the edges of his teeth with my tongue—to forget the things that flash through my brain at random moments. The smack of Tom’s palm, his fingers digging into my flesh, the hollow bounce of George’s skull, the moment when someone handed me my diploma, the moment when the scripted part of my life ended and everything turned foggy and terrifying.