Hundreds—maybe even thousands—of strands of blue, white, and silver crystals hung from the ceilings, stopping just above their heads, catching the light and winking at Jaya as they twirled lazily. Gigantic pots holding trees that had been painted white, their trunks and branches glittering with lights, dotted the corners, while mini versions of them anchored the tables. Dozens upon dozens of oversize shining lanterns, similar to the ones outside, bordered off the enormous dance floor, which was made of polished white stone and looked like a huge piece of ice. White chandeliers of various sizes hung from the ceilings in the midst of the strands of crystals. The entire room glowed and sparkled and appeared to be made of water or vapor or dreams rather than anything solid. Other students began surging in, hand in hand, their faces shining as they went to claim tables and to dance. Isha and Elliot walked close together, their heads bent, talking. Alaric was leading a girl in a red dress out to the dance floor, his hair higher and stiffer than ever. “Ha,” Daph said, crossing her arms. “Her hair’s even taller than his. Wonder if they coordinated.”

Jaya had to laugh. “Yes, maybe. I wouldn’t put it past Alaric to have that as a stipulation for his dates.”

A tall black senior boy—Jaya thought his name might be Jake—came up to Daph to ask her to dance. After a pause, she smiled and took his hand. “I’d love to.” Looking back over her shoulder at Jaya, she let herself be led out onto the floor.

Jaya felt a twinge of genuine happiness for Daph, mixed with just a hint of wistfulness. Perhaps this was the beginning of Daph’s clean break. Caterina deserved one too. Speaking of which… Jaya looked past Alaric and the girl in the red dress. They were dancing rather close together, their bodies moving in synchrony like they’d done this a thousand times before, the girl’s crimson ball-gown skirt swirling around them like blood.

And by herself, just off the dance floor, stood Caterina. The flickering flames from the lanterns cast long shadows around her and across her face; her expression was hard but otherwise inscrutable. In her high-necked ball gown, she looked like an evil queen, plotting the princess’s demise. Her date was nowhere to be seen.

According to Rahul, there was a 19.68 percent chance that, if Jaya were to approach Caterina, Caterina would launch herself at Jaya as she’d done to Alaric on the yacht. Apparently, he’d tabulated all the times Caterina had “lost her temper” over the years, along with some kind of estimation algorithm that her “mean intervals between outbursts” would be sufficiently high enough to evoke a physical reaction. That number kept playing in Jaya’s head as she crossed to where Caterina stood, alone outside of the lanterns bordering the edges of the dance floor.