The hesitation costs me my chance. The faux liquid glosses over to reflective glass again. I jerk free an instant before it closes, shutting me off from my mom and all the secrets she’s been hiding.

I don’t take the time to change out of the dress or tiara. As I scramble down the hall, Jen fires questions about what happened at school. I have no clue how to answer, so I push past her and sprint out the front door onto the lawn, expecting a bloodbath.

Instead, both guys are standing in the shade of Morpheus’s opened car hood. Neither of them realizes they have an audience.

Jeb must’ve come straight from his interview. He’s still in his photo-shoot clothes: black jeans, a black short-sleeved knit polo that hugs his muscles, a long-sleeved burgundy tee underneath, and a Japanese-design necktie draped loosely where the buttons open.

“So, it died on some random street?” he asks without looking up.

Morpheus nods. “Stopped rather inconveniently, in fact.”

I purse my lips at the understatement.

Jeb leans his elbows on the car’s frame and pokes at the engine. “Not sure what caused it. This model has a single serpentine belt for everything, so when it fails, the whole engine stops. But if that had happened, it would’ve been close to impossible to get it started again.” He digs around, getting grease on his hand. “Yours looks a little worn, though. You’ll need to change it soon.”

Morpheus taps his hat’s brim in thought. “I was afraid of that. What does something like that run?”

My breath winds tight inside me. I should be relieved that they’re not trying to kill each other, but my mind can’t quite wrap around it. With my mother having an outing in the mirror, it’s too much weirdness all at once.

I turn to glare at Jen as she steps up beside me. “You said they were fighting,” I whisper.

She shrugs.

Morpheus must’ve kept his vow and smoothed things over with Jeb somehow. Which leaves me clear to take care of Mom. Nerves on edge, I start to go back inside.

Jenara clears her throat.

I spin, locked in Jeb’s and Morpheus’s gazes.

They stand there gawking for what seems an eternity. Late-afternoon sun beats down, making the layers of fabric hot and itchy. With everything so quiet, I’m painfully aware of the absence of whispering bugs. Once again, they seem to have abandoned their posts. Lately, they’re either griping about the flowers or just … silent.

Jeb shuts the car’s hood. I bite my lip as he closes the distance between us, wiping grease from his hands on a bandana that he drags from his pocket.

“Wow.” His eyes run the length of me, then meet my gaze, relaying a message as gruff and hungry as anything he’s ever spoken aloud: I want to touch you so bad, it hurts …

His study of me has never been this intense. My legs feel like softened clay.

He takes my lace-clad hand and pulls me into a hug.

“How am I supposed to wait until after prom with you looking like that?” he whispers against my ear, then kisses my temple.

The sentiment leaves me breathless. If only I could enjoy it. I peer over his sturdy shoulder to catch Morpheus watching. He drags off his hat, and the glint in his black eyes tells me he approves of the dress, too.

I frown, screaming at him with my eyes: Stop wasting time! Get my mom out of the mirror! Find Red so we can send her back!

“The perfect fairy bride,” Morpheus says, making it obvious he can’t hear my thoughts this time. “All you’re lacking are the wings.”

Jeb’s arms tense around me. There’s the friction I expected to see between them when I came out. They’re both on their best behavior, but that peace could snap at any moment.

Jenara shifts so she blocks Morpheus’s view. “Speaking of wings … Mr. Entomologist, I have a costume question for you for Alyssa’s gown. What say we get some cookies and do some brainstorming?”

He follows her, giving me one last glance over his shoulder.

The instant they’re gone, Jeb whispers, “I thought they’d never leave,” then leans in to kiss me.

I sidestep him and edge toward the door.

He frowns and follows. “You’re mad that I didn’t pick you up from school. I cut the interview short to get here. I have to meet the reporter later to finish the questions. Doesn’t that count for something?”

His wounded expression twists me up inside. “Yes. I mean, no, I’m not mad. I thought you were mad. Jen said that Taelor—”

“Mort clarified things.” Jeb tucks his bandana away.

“Mort? He lets you call him that?”

“I didn’t ask permission.”

I tilt my head in thought. “So everything’s cool with you guys?”

“You texted that you had an ‘encounter.’ So when Mort said that he wanted to make Taelor jealous by pretending to come on to you, and that she exaggerated the details because it backfired and ticked her off … well, his explanation fit. Too bad he made an enemy out of Tae, though. She’s not a girl you want to cross.”

“Tell me about it,” I mumble, picking up my pace across the lawn with Jeb in tow. “You should hear what she’s spreading around school.”

“Well, he’s going to clear all that up tomorrow. Old family friend or not, Mothra had no right to use you like that.”

My feet stop dead, entire body freezing at the nickname. Jeb can’t be starting to remember Morpheus’s ability to become a moth. He wasn’t technically in Wonderland to make those memories … not anymore. Unless Mom was right at the hospital, when she said no one ever leaves Wonderland unscathed. Does his subconscious somehow remember something he no longer experienced?

“What did you just call him?” I ask, my voice shaky … hopeful.

“Mothra,” he answers. “You know, Godzilla’s archenemy. Because the guy’s moth crazy.” He gives me a sly grin. “C’mon, you couldn’t have missed his hat. And that car? Gullwings look like moths when both doors are up.”

“Right.” Of course he doesn’t remember. My thoughts return to Mom and her secrets. “We should go in so I can change.”

“Wait.” Jeb takes my hand and twirls me so my flower-petal hem ripples. When I’m facing him again, he shakes his head. “Mort was right. You’re like a fairy on her wedding night. Let me enjoy the fantasy a little longer.” His plea is so silky sweet, I can almost feel it on my skin. He kisses my gloved hand.