“It’s no game,” Adelaide said. “My nerves just got the best of me. Things finally came together during the retakes.”

   “Impossible. I don’t understand how or why you’ve been doing this, but I know something’s going on. And if you think you can just ruin my life and—”

   “Oh, come on.” Adelaide’s composed façade began wearing down. “Your life is far from ruined.”

   “That’s not true. I had it. I was in the top three—the three who get shown the most!—and then you came along and pulled that out from under me. You knew how important it was to me but still went ahead and destroyed everything I’ve worked for.”

   That was when Adelaide finally lost it. “Tamsin, enough! I’ve gone along with your theatrics for nine months, but this is going too far. Exactly what in your life has been destroyed? You can converse about current politics, eat a seven-course meal, and play the piano! Maybe you’ll miss out on a few parties, but you’re still going to marry some rich, prestigious man in the New World. You’ve come a long way from being a laundress’s daughter, and if you were my friend, you’d be happy at how far I’ve come too.”

   Tamsin flinched a little at if you were my friend, but she didn’t back down. “That’s the thing. I can’t tell how far you’ve come. I’ve lived with you all these months but don’t know anything about you. The only thing I’m sure of is that you’ve been lying to us all, and this ‘triumph’ of yours just proves it!”

   I felt sick to my stomach. All the hope I’d joyously built up was crumbling before me. No, no, I thought. I can’t lose this. I can’t lose this tranquil bubble. I hated seeing Tamsin so upset. I hated seeing her direct that raw emotion at Adelaide. And I hated the way it changed Adelaide.

   “Tamsin.” I spoke very cautiously, very lightly. My job was to mediate, as always. “That’s not fair. What’s wrong with her wanting to do well? It’s what we all want. And she told you, nerves always got the best of her—”

   “That’s the biggest lie of all. She’s been fearless from the first day, facing down Clara and traipsing out in the night for holly. The jokes, the carefree air . . . it’s all been a cover.” Tamsin shifted her glare from me back to Adelaide. “Nerves aren’t your problem. I refuse to be sucked into your web of lies, and I will never have anything to do with you again.”

   I attempted to tell her how extreme that was, but no pleas could sway her. She left in a rage, slamming the door so hard, the floor shook. Adelaide fell apart after that and collapsed to her bed, all of her earlier defiance vanishing. I hurried over and wrapped her in my arms, even though I was on the verge of falling apart myself.

   “It’s okay,” I kept saying. “I’ll fix this. She’ll come around.”

   But Tamsin didn’t.

   At first, I thought she just needed time. We had a week until we sailed to Adoria. Surely, their anger would cool. It did, I suppose, in a way. But it was the kind of cold, seething anger that was almost as deadly as the hot and furious kind. The fact that we all had to sleep in the same room together only worsened it. Tamsin stayed away as much as possible, going to bed late in the hopes that Adelaide would be asleep.

   Adelaide, for her part, attempted to make peace a few times. Tamsin wouldn’t have it. I tried as well, certain that even stubborn Tamsin would cave. After all, how many times had I seen them and their extreme personalities quarrel? Always, always, they had eventually made up.

   But as more time passed, I began to face the awful, horrible realization that this might be unfixable. Everything that had happened to me before—loss, pain, abandonment—was happening again. My parents. Lonzo. Sirminica. The hope I’d had for Adoria grew dark. The ground felt like it was crumbling beneath me. And I was going to fall with it.

   On the night before we sailed, I made one last effort, cornering Tamsin in the study. I vowed to stay calm and strong. I can fix this.

   “Tamsin, please. Hear her out. You’ve never given her a chance. We sail tomorrow. You two have to forgive each other.”

   Cold fire flashed in the depths of Tamsin’s eyes. “There’s no forgiving what she’s done. You don’t know how badly she’s hurt me.”

   “And neither of you understand how badly you’re hurting me! You two are ripping me in half! I’ve seen what happens when neither side backs down in a fight. No one wins, Tamsin, and I’m so tired of it. I’m tired of pain. I’m tired of loss. I can’t do it anymore—and I can’t lose you guys.”

   Tamsin’s face went very still, and after several long moments, she clasped my hands in hers. “Mira, you will never lose me. No matter what else happens or where we go in this world, I will always be there for you.” The next words came with a bit of difficulty. “And whatever’s happened between Adelaide and me . . . well. I know she’ll always be there for you too.”

   “It won’t be the same.”

   “I’m sorry, Mira. I wish you weren’t pulled into this. You’re the last person I want to see hurt.”

   “Then let this go. Please.” I had one last, desperate argument. I can fix this. “You guys can’t go two months, cooped up on the same ship, with this between you.”

   “You’re right,” she said, releasing my hands. “We can’t.”

CHAPTER 6

   WE LEFT FROM CULVER, A PORT CITY ON OSFRID’S WEST coast, on a cold and blustery day. Gray water lapped at the docks in front of us, and seagulls screeched and whirled in the sky above. It was so like the city where I’d landed on the other side of the country that I had a brief sense of déjà vu. I’d traveled with my brother that day. This morning, I stood with the two friends who felt like sisters—and who still hadn’t made peace with each other.