We keep playing, somehow managing to answer enough questions about music, cars, and TV stars correctly that we end up in a tie with The Estates.

Jameson adds some spice to his delivery, “Okay, people, it all comes. Down. To. This. Moment. Estates, are you ready?”

Cole squeezes his chicken. “Anarchy Authority, ready?”

Heather wrings her chicken extra-hard, threatening to strangle Cole with the move, but I don’t think he’d mind her choking his chicken. “Last question for the win . . . what serial killer was the first convicted on the basis of forensic genealogy?”

“Oh!” Zoey exclaims and then quickly covers her mouth with her hands. I look at her eyes, which are bright blue with recognition.

“Choke the chicken, Heather,” I growl, my eyes locked on Zoey’s. Ca-cawwwwwk!

“Anarchy Authority?”

All eyes are on Zoey, who looks terrified now.

“It’s okay, just answer,” I whisper.

It takes her a prolonged heartbeat, but she leans forward and says clearly, “Joseph James DeAngelo, a.k.a. The Golden State Killer.”

Every head turns toward Jameson to see if she’s right because we have no idea.

Jameson’s smile grows as he checks his answer card. “Correct! The winner of the loser bracket is . . . Anarchy Authority!”

“We won!” I shout, bending down to wrap my arms around Zoey’s thighs and lift her high.

She squeals in surprise, her hands going to my shoulders, but I’ve got her. I won’t let anything happen to her, or to me, or to anyone else. Right now, I feel ten feet tall and bulletproof as everyone claps and cheers.

Professor Adams comes over to shake Heather’s hand. “Good showing tonight. Never seen people so excited about third place.”

He laughs and Heather shrugs. “As long as we’re not the losers. Those guys have to buy the drinks.”

She says the last part loud enough for Cole to hear and he grimaces. But he holds a hand up to Don and spins a finger through the air to order another round.

“Come on. I promised you some nachos, Ringer.” I lead Zoey back to our team’s table, where everyone’s chatting and congratulating each other on their correct answers. Now that the competition is over, even Cole has toned it down and is talking like a normal human being.

“Great job, Zoey! You can play with us any time,” Heather tells her.

“Thanks,” Zoey says haltingly. “Though I didn’t realize I was playing tonight. I thought I was rushing in for an emergency, hence the running out of the house without getting dressed.”

She gestures to her outfit and Heather shrugs. “You should see what I wore for the Halloween Trivia Bash. Girl, you look almost normal compared to that outfit.”

“What was your outfit?” Zoey asks, and Heather laughs.

“I came as a full-on, ball-busting, leather- and latex-clad dominatrix . . . with a pink tutu,” Heather says matter of factly.