And then he’s under her hands. She shoves him hard. She drops the key she forgot she was holding. It clatters to the floor and the sound silences the room.

“You’re a fucking piece of shit, you know that, right,” Lulu says.

“Oh come on, Lulu,” Ryan starts, and instantly she can see that she miscalculated. Because even though she’s the one who’s been fucked over here, he’s mad. He looks contained and removed because he’s clenching against a fury that’s consuming him from the inside out. He doesn’t care if he hurt her tonight. “You’re really mad that people are looking at you?”

Maybe, actually, he wants to be allowed to hurt her worse.

The room is full of men in black suits and they’re Ryan’s friends. His dad’s business partners. Lulu’s pink dress feels so foolish, like she just had to go ahead and let everyone know that she’s just a dumb, defenseless girl. There’s no one here who’s on her side, except Cass, but Cass—where is Cass? She can’t find her in this sea of people.

Lulu is almost glad. She doesn’t know if she could bear to look at Cass right now, to see Ryan taking all the privacy and intimacy he offered and turning it against her. He sold Cass on the idea that she could be anyone here, and now he’s captured her, and pinned her in a frame.

The cruelty of it is staggering.

Lulu is sure that if she stays in this room her body will stop breathing.

She doesn’t say anything to Ryan. Instead, she walks out of the room, into the hallway, down the stairs, through the lobby, and then out of its door at last, releasing herself into the cold, clear dark of the night.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

IT’S FIFTEEN MINUTES to midnight when Lulu shows up on Bea’s doorstep. She thought about sending her a Flash on the way over, but then she figured Bea wouldn’t be paying attention to her phone, and might especially not be in the mood to talk to Lulu if she didn’t know it was urgent. It’s not like her parents are home to be woken up, anyway.

It feels very strange and formal to ring the bell. Lulu listens to it echoing through the downstairs.

It takes five minutes and another ring before Bea comes to answer it. Lulu sees her dimly through the door’s glass panes—the lights are mostly off down here, but Bea looks disheveled, and annoyed.

Her face changes when she realizes who’s standing on her porch.

She opens the door.

“Can I come in?” Lulu asks.

“What the fuck?”

“Can I come in?”

Bea stands back. “Of course. Of course. Lulu, are you okay? Is that Owen? What’s happening? What’s going on?”