“No,” Nessa says, serenely. “I just don’t think that matters.”

“How does it not matter?”

“Because love finds a way!” she says. “Look at me and Miko. He HATED our family. And you all hated him.”

“Well, he did abduct you, and try to extort us . . . ”

Nessa rolls her eyes.

“And he framed Dante for murder . . . ”

“Exactly!” she says, cheerfully. “And look how well it all turned out! If Miko and I can get through that, I’m sure you and Raylan can figure out a way to make things work.”

Usually Nessa’s relentless optimism would annoy me. I guess it’s a sign of how desperate I am that today I find it comforting. I do want to find a way to be with Raylan. Without either of us losing the other things in our lives that matter to us.

Nessa and I go shopping on the Mag Mile, popping in and out of fancy boutique shops until we’ve found the perfect dresses for the wedding.

It’s easy to find something for Nessa, because everything looks perfect on her slim dancer’s figure, against her creamy skin and her chestnut hair. She ends up buying a lavender gown with a slit up the thigh, and long, puffed sleeves. It reminds me of something a 1940s film star might wear. Nessa always chooses things that look vintage in some way, and they always suit her, because she has that delicate, timeless beauty that would fit any era.

It’s harder for me because a lot of colors clash with red. Plus, I’ve always avoided showing too much skin, because I want to be taken seriously. But today, still flushed from my last conversation with Raylan, I choose a backless dress in a rich, dark teal. The cool silk flows around my body, caressing my skin.

“Oh my god!” Nessa says, when she sees it. “I’ve never seen you look so . . . dangerous.”

“Is it too much for a wedding?” I ask her.

“No! You have to buy it. It’s the best you’ve ever looked.”

I buy the dress, not worried that I’m going to outshine Simone. She’s literally the most gorgeous woman in the world, with the modeling paychecks to prove it. There’s no way she could ever be upstaged at her own wedding.

By the time Nessa and I have our hair and makeup done at the Asha Salon, we have to head straight to the venue. Luckily I bought my gift for Dante and Simone weeks ago, and even luckier I stored it at my parents’ house. Nessa brought it with her in the Jeep.

“What did you get them?” she asks me.

“It’s a sound-wave print of the first song they ever danced to,” I tell her. “It’s printed in gold-leaf, and I had it framed.”

“Oh!” Nessa says. “I wish it wasn’t wrapped so I could see it.”

“What did you get them?” I ask her.

“Salted bread and a bottle of Chateau Mouton-Rosthchild. Also, gold ingots for Henry and the baby. Mikolaj picked—they’re traditional Polish wedding gifts,” Nessa explains. “I thought Simone would enjoy that, since she’s been everywhere.”