“You aren’t safe anywhere. Whitney and Jeff—they don’t want to rule just Keystone. They want to rule the world. The time will come when you’ll have to decide whose side you’re on.” He pulls me to his chest and whispers in my ear, “Ella. I never stopped thinking about you. The circumstances we met under were out of my control. There are bigger things at play than you and me. I don’t expect you to believe me, and you don’t have to decide now, but if you ever need me, I’ll make sure you can find me.”

Just then, I’m whisked away by another dancer. For a moment Nash’s pleading eyes hold mine, and I stare back over the dancer’s shoulder. Fearing his speech was a ploy to pickpocket me, I feel for the ring. It’s still nestled in my dress’s hot pink skirt, and I exhale relief, but then my hand connects with something else. I pull out a folded paper note and immediately shove it back in my pocket.

When I look up again, Nash is gone.

“It’s good to see you, Scarlet Spy,” the guy I’m dancing with says, and I realize it’s Stewart.

Grinning, I hug him. He hugs me back, quickly guiding me to a different Bubble Car than the one I arrived in. Whispering “never say live,” he gestures me inside to where Garrett is waiting.

“Always say die,” I quietly reply, the knowledge that there’s been a change of plan inserting itself in my brain.

As I get in, I see Nicki duck into a car with Eric/Nash. Behind me, the actors start screaming “Earthquake!” and through the Bubble Car windows, the street trembles. The string lights flicker, and the girl in the red hat falls to the ground. A trombone player throws down his instrument and shields her as the houses crumble around them.

Stewart closes the car door, and Garrett raises his finger to his lips, gesturing me silent.

“I hate to miss the rest, but Betsy looks terrible. Like, worse than usual,” he says, his focus on the virtual world only his AMPs can see.

I roll my eyes.

“The sickness came on really fast,” he continues. “I think I’d better take her home. But you and Eric should stay. Enjoy the rest of the show…” He falls silent, listening. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll make it to the party. I should stay with her. But I’ll make it up to you. Maybe we can have breakfast tomorrow before I go? Just the two of us?” Again, he pauses before saying, “Great. I’ll pick you up at eight.” As soon as he’s done talking, he takes the AMPs out of his eyes and chucks them out the window. “Success?” he asks, finally looking at me.