“You do always seem, I don’t know, a little over-the-top when he’s around. Like you’re trying to shine really bright…”

“He makes me nervous.”

“I understand, but maybe try just being yourself?”

She frowns. “I don’t know if nerdy contortionists will ever be his thing.”

“Rayelle, if he’s not into contortionists, he’s an idiot.”

She giggles.

“All set,” Garrett says, the sliding glass door closing behind him. “While I was talking to Nicki, I was thinking about how we can plant Rayelle at the salon—”

“Good to know Nicki commands your undivided attention,” I say, a bit relieved that he isn’t more obsessed with her.

“It’s called multitasking, Bets. Even the smallest minds are capable of it.” He playfully pats my hair. “Maybe Rayelle gives freelance hand massages.”

“Is that legal?” I ask.

He ignores me.

“We’ll find a salon where she can offer massages for an extra charge as long as she splits the proceeds with the shop owners. That way she won’t have to program the nails. Fewer variables. Rayelle may have to massage some strangers, but if she leaves soon after we do—change of plans—she can hand the ring off to Chloe, who can pass it to you during the performance, Bets. That way we don’t risk Nicki recognizing Rayelle. And in the meantime, we’ll plant our exit story and make sure Nicki is comfortable with the new ring.”

“And you want me to hold the ring through the rest of the performance?” I ask, my palms sweating at the thought.

“Yes.” He dismisses me. “Are you up for the challenge, Rayelle?”

“Absolutely.” She grins, her eyes bunching up.

“Let’s start practicing, then,” Garrett says. “We don’t have a lot of time. The last Ring Around the Rosie performance is tomorrow night. Bets, you be Nicki.”

“So soon?” My heart leaps into my throat as I slip the replica ring onto my left middle finger. It fits perfectly.

He shrugs. “The sooner the better. The quicker we get the ring, the less chance of our covers being blown, and who knows when Simon plans to launch his Quinn update. The quicker we get the ring, the more time whoever is going to steal the algorithm will have to prepare.”

“This is so exciting,” Rayelle says. “Never say live.” Grinning, she puts the Italian ring on, turning the stone so it faces her palm.

“Always say die,” I respond, holding up my hand for her to massage.

Garrett arches an eyebrow.

“Just go with it,” I say.

“Always say die,” he repeats with a slow smile.

My insides flutter, and I press my lips together.

Rayelle lotions my hand and begins the massage. I immediately feel the ring move.

“Stop. I felt it.”

She tries again.

“Felt it.”

And again.

Garrett tries to teach her everything Kyran taught him, and we practice for hours until, at some point, we pass out.