He clutches his heart like I wounded him. “I almost thought you meant that. But then I didn’t, because I can read you and it’s obvious that you secretly love me.”

I laugh and realize it’s the first time I’ve laughed in days; the weight of Stefano’s murder and the fear of being a suspect have darkened everything. “Well, you’re not boring, I’ll give you that.”

He leans slightly toward me. “Never boring.”

For a moment we are both quiet.

Ash sighs, and his look is gentler. There’s none of his usual analysis or distance. It almost seems like he’s seeing me for the first time, and for just a moment, I get lost in his gaze. My stomach flips in a good way, and for once he’s the one to break eye contact.

I clear my throat. “I asked you in the vine courtyard what I needed to know to survive here,” I say, and readjust my position on the couch. “Well, now you know what I meant. So I’m asking you again.”

He pauses. “If I agree to tell you what you want to know, I need you to also do something for me.”

“It’s always a trade with you.”

“I’m completely serious about this.”

“Okay, fine. What do you need me to do?”

His eyes get intense again. “Not tell my sister what you just told me.”

“What?” I lean back slightly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He presses his lips together for a brief second. “Because it’s dangerous.”

“For me, sure,” I say. “But how would it be dangerous for Layla?”

“The fact that you don’t know who you are tells me that there’s something to hide, something important. And once that gets uncovered, I don’t want Layla to be at the center of it.”

I look at the fireplace for answers. It feels wrong not telling Layla. And it puts me in a place where I have to potentially lie to her. Plus, I trust her way more than I trust him—don’t I? If she had been here instead of Ash tonight, I’d probably be having this conversation with her.

“The choice is yours, November. If I help you figure out who you are, Layla can’t know the truth. Or tell her, and I promise you neither of us will help you. You need us way more than we need you, and you know that, otherwise you wouldn’t have told me any of this.”

“Don’t bother saying the choice is mine, if there isn’t a choice,” I say.

I can’t help but think about the talk Layla gave me in the library, when she said our new trust arrangement was completely breakable. I feel like I’m already destroying it.

Just then the door latch struggles against the lock. “November?” Layla says, her voice muffled by the thick door.