“Did something happen?” I ask. “Or is she just, like, a shitty person?”

I figure even as I’m asking it that it might be too personal, and Molly proves me right by shaking her head. “Yeah, look, some stuff happened, but it’s … a lot. I’ll tell you another time. If you don’t find … anyway. She’s not a shit person. She’s just … look. The thing you need to know about Rose is, she’s the princess, and everything comes second to that. And I mean everything. You can see how that might become toxic, yeah?”

“Sure.”

“We have a lot of friends in common, so I don’t want to start an all-out war or anything. I’m just trying to keep my distance a bit these days, you know?”

So when Molly said I’d be giving her a good excuse to avoid people at her party, she didn’t really mean people. She meant Rosemary.

“Anyway,” Molly says, perking up. “Can we get a quick moving-in photo for my story?”

Molly kneels beside me and I pose for the camera, and then she gets to work on editing the photo. “What’s your handle?” she asks. “I’ll tag you.”

A few seconds later my phone buzzes with the notification. I click on her profile, ready to add her as a friend, but I catch sight of her follower count and I’m so shocked I forget what I’m doing completely. For a second, I swear my eyes aren’t working right. There’s way too many digits.

“That’s why I prefer texting,” she says when she notices my face. “My DMs can get a little crowded.”

“Whoa. What are you, an influencer?” I ask, flipping through her profile. It doesn’t look like anything special. Just your run-of-the-mill mix of selfies, scenery, and activity photos. It all looks pretty unstructured and casual. Or maybe it’s carefully curated to look that way. It’s hard to tell.

“I hate that word,” she says. “If I ever call myself an influencer unironically, you have my permission to roast me until I screw my head back on.”

“But you are one,” I say, tipping my phone screen to her like she needs the evidence or something.

She shrugs reluctantly, her cheeks reddening. “My dad was the prime minister when I was a kid, and he used to take me to press conferences and stuff. He passed away before he finished his term—no, it was years ago, Danni, don’t look all sad for me, and please don’t tell me you’re sorry. Anyway, the media got kind of obsessed with me in the fallout. I guess people know me from that; I don’t have any talents or anything.”