I tuck my phone away. Parker loves me and has a family. I have friends. I have the chance to belong to something. I just need to earn it.

And I need to sort things out with Xander. I need to be honest with him. If I’m lying to create a place for myself in his troupe, I’m doing the exact thing I refused to do for Deb.

But Xander doesn’t show. I push through the doors myself thirty minutes later. My irritation fades as I take in my surroundings.

Tiles cover the floor—each one a different shade of blue, without repetition. I didn’t think there were so many different shades of a single color. A band sits on a raised, circular platform in the center. White columns rise into a swirling ceiling of clouds—real ones.

Multiple tiers of fans drop down from the clouds, each one a different jewel tone, each blade shaped like a bird’s wing with stunningly rendered feathers. I bet Reina loves this. I look around for her, already picturing the pure joy on her face, and my eyes lock on Julia. Hers flit away, but I ignore the signal to leave her alone.

She’s still looking to the side when I reach her. The tiny strings of beads stitched all over her bohemian-style dress tinkle as she brushes a hand over them and finally looks at me. I expect her to be annoyed, but she just seems tired.

“I’m guessing you knew,” I say.

“Knew what?”

“Who my father is.”

She’s silent. “I was hoping he didn’t know. That you being here was just an unfortunate accident. I should’ve known he’d have had people watching you—that he would have found you eventually without your mom keeping you on the run. I used to be one of the ones he had looking for you.”

“I thought you were my mom’s friend.”

Julia gives me an assessing look. “Well, I never found her, did I?”

“He said he wanted to keep us safe.”

Julia raises an eyebrow. “He wanted her gone.”

Her expression is dark. Furious—with the kind of rage I’m all too familiar with. She thinks he murdered her.

But chasing’s not killing.

I force myself to say it—the thing I know now. Even though I shouldn’t care what she thinks of Lucius. He’s not my real father. He made it clear he wants me for my power and nothing else, but I still want to defend him. He’s still a piece of me. “He didn’t kill her,” I say. “My mom used magic the day before she died. A lot of magic, to heal me.” It had to be a lot. The memory is clearer now, the dark dirt beneath me that was soaked through with blood. “She died saving me. I killed her.”