There’s another long pause, and then a faint clicking sound. Cass reaches out and pushes the gate, and it swings open. Involuntarily, Lulu takes a step back.

Then she makes herself step forward again. She can’t wimp out on Cass now.

A tiny Central American woman opens the front door and stands aside to let Lulu and Cass pass.

“Hi,” Cass says to her. “I’m here—”

“Arsema, I’ve got it,” Ryan calls.

The woman slips away, dismissed.

Ryan stands in front of them in the hallway. He’s wearing jeans and a button-down and a watch Lulu’s never seen on him before. It looks heavy and expensive. His face is impassive.

“Cass, what?” he asks.

“Cass what,” she repeats. “Are you kidding me?”

“Are you interrupting Christmas lunch?” Ryan gestures behind him, and Lulu sees: the front foyer opens onto a palatial living room that, in turn, spills onto the back deck, the lawn glowing green and the pool shimmering aqua behind it.

The Riggs family is sitting at a long table on the deck. A Christmas tree is stationed at either end—Lulu would bet money they’re honest-to-god firs—dripping in crystal ornaments that catch and refract light, dappling everyone in rainbows. There’s wine in every cup and a delicate salad on their plates. It looks like a lifestyle shoot for someone’s Instagram. Lulu doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything less cozy or intimate, or more icily, professionally beautiful.

“Ryan,” Roman Sr. calls from the table. “Who’s there?”

Lulu looks at Cass. Cass is still looking at Ryan.

“We can leave,” Cass says, quiet, to Ryan. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and look. You’re fine.”

She turns, but Ryan reaches out and grabs her arm. “Don’t go,” he says. “We can talk. Upstairs.”

Cass looks down at his hand on her wrist. “Okay,” she says.

Ryan lets her go. He steps in close and wraps her in a hug.

It’s Lulu’s turn to look away.

Someone gets up from the table and makes his way to Lulu. As soon as he’s close enough, she recognizes him: Flash makes good use of Roman Jr.’s looks in their ads. He has Ryan’s handsome, striking features, but they’re harder: He looks cut from stone instead of made of skin. “You want to sit for a minute?” he asks.

“I’m okay,” Lulu says.

“Come on.”

Lulu does as she’s commanded: She goes to sit.

“I’m Roman,” he says.

“Lulu.”

“I figured. Ryan told me about you. I hear you’re one of our premiere users on the Flash platform.”

“Oh god, not premiere.”

Lulu slips into Ryan’s abandoned seat at the table. So this is what a Riggs-eye view of the world looks like.

It looks nice.

“He said one of your videos had gotten a lot of attention.”

Lulu sucks in a breath.