When he finally lifts his mouth from mine, I’m glassy-eyed and shaken. Then I realize that the bells ringing in my head are the school alerts. Classes are about to start.

“You look gorgeous right now.” He leans forward and whispers in my ear. “I hear conjugal visits are real hot.”

Immediately, my gooey mood hardens to displeasure. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

His expression goes serious. “I’m sorry, but—”

“You should be.”

“—if I can’t joke about it, then I’m probably gonna cry about it, and that’s not an option.”

He looks so miserable that I feel bad for snapping at him. God, I’m just losing my cool all over the place this morning.

But I just…I refuse to accept that Reed is going to prison. I can’t let that happen.

I can’t.

* * *

Since I no longer have dance practice after school, I’m free to pursue what I call Operation Justice. I bring Val along, not just because I need the backup, but because I’m hoping if we’re trapped in a car together, she’ll finally tell me what’s going on with her and Wade. I know they met up to talk, but she hasn’t given me any details about it.

“So how was the talk with Wade?” I demand as I drive out of the school lot.

“Fascinating.”

Her tone is off. I tilt my head and study her. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

“I am. And I’m not.” She sighs. “He said all the right things, but I don’t know if…”

“If you believe him?” I finish.

“Yeah. Or if I’m willing to even go there with him. Like, to the relationship zone.”

“Is it because you’re not over Tam yet?”

“No, I think I’m over Tam. I’m just not sure I’m ready to be…under Wade.”

We both snort.

“Do you want me to stop asking about it? Because I’ll shut up. But if you want to talk, I’m here.” Thinking about Val’s problems is kind of a relief from my own.

“No, I don’t want you to stop asking about it. I just don’t think Wade and I are in the right headspace for each other. He’s fun and all, but he’s all about fun. I can’t get anywhere with him.” She gives me a slight smile, this time actually looking at me so I can see her bemused expression.

“I think Wade has hidden depths but maybe is afraid to show them?” I suggest.

“Maybe.” She sounds dubious.

“Are you going to Winter Formal with him? Reed said he asked you.”

She grimaces. “No. I’m staying home. I hate Winter Formal.”

“Is it that bad? Everyone at Astor acts like it’s the best thing ever.”

“This is the South. Any time you can get dressed up and parade around, it’s going to be celebrated.”

“But not by you?”

“Nope. I hate that stuff. Is Steve letting you go with Reed?”

“Um, I doubt it. I haven’t talked to him about it, but I don’t think he’ll be on board with it at all. Besides, I don’t even have a dress. You never told me I’d need one for this.”

We share a grin. When we first met, Val told me I needed dresses for every event from weddings to funerals, but not a dress for a school dance. “You’ll need to get on that,” she says.

“Mmm,” is all the enthusiasm I can muster up. Dancing, dresses, and parties hold no interest for me right now, not until I find evidence to get Reed out of this mess. I am not going to let an innocent guy go to prison. The rest of the Royals might be down for that, but not me.

Ten minutes later, I pull up at the curb in front of a low-rise building in the city. I kill the engine and glance at Val. “Ready?”

“Remind me why we’re here again?”

“I need to talk to someone.”

“And you can’t call them?”

“I don’t think she’ll answer my calls,” I admit, shifting my attention out the window.

All of the statements Reed told us about are essentially true—or some variation of the truth. But Reed insists that this one isn’t. Plus, none of us ever remember seeing this server upstairs. So I decided to seek her out. I want her to tell this lie to my face.

“This place looks sketchy,” Val observes, leaning across the console to look out my window at the sprawling apartment complex.

She’s right. All the buildings look tired and worn. The cement sidewalk is cracked and buckling. Weeds creep up the chain link fencing that encloses the parking lot in the center of the buildings. But I’ve lived in far worse conditions than this.

“Do you think I should knock on the door or wait for her to come out?” I ask.

“Do you know what she looks like?”

“Yeah, she was part of the catering staff that came to the house once. I’d recognize her if I saw her.”

“Then let’s wait. If she’s not going to answer the phone, I can’t see her opening the door to you.”

“Good point.” I tap my fingers against the wheel impatiently.

“You ever think Reed did it?” Val says quietly after a few minutes.

“Yeah, I think about that.” All the time.

“And?”

“I don’t care.” And then, because I want Val to be clear on this, I abandon my stakeout for a second. “I don’t think he did it, but if it was an accident and they got in a fight where she fell and hit her head, then I don’t see why Reed should be punished for that. Maybe that makes me a terrible person, but I’m Team Reed.”

Val smiles and reaches out to cover my hand with hers. “For the record, I’m Team Reed, too.”

“Thank you.” I squeeze her hand and turn back to the window in time to see the door to apartment 5B swing open. “There she is!”

I scramble out of the car, nearly taking a header on the pavement in my haste.

“Ms. Myers,” I call out.

The petite, dark-haired woman stops, just inside the fence. “Yeah?”

“I’m Ella Harper.”

To my relief, her face registers no recognition. I straighten my blazer—one that I ruined by ripping the Astor Park badge off in hopes that it makes me look like a journalist. “I’m a reporter for The Bayview News. Do you have a minute?”