Maybe David wasn’t that great at thinking on his feet. And why did he even own a car like that, anyway? Saylor surely could’ve afforded something nicer. It was probably a point of pride with him, like his weird thrift shop wardrobe.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Saylor,” he continued. “I shouldn’t have ditched school, but Harper, uh, was sick. And you’re always going on about good citizenship.”

I tried not to let surprise show on my face. That was actually a pretty good save. Certainly better than “chicks really want to get behind the wheel of my Stratus.” And the fact that he’d been able to do it after nearly getting killed and dealing with what appeared to be magic was impressive.

“Good citizenship doesn’t have to come at the cost of your own morals, David,” Saylor snapped. “You know better than to skip class, and I am very disappointed in you. And of course, we haven’t even gotten into the completely reckless way you two were driving. I think you and I will be having a long talk when I get done with Cotillion practice this afternoon, young man.”

Saylor’s gaze swung back to me. “Speaking of, Miss Price, if you’re feeling so ill, maybe you’d better sit today’s rehearsal out.”

“But we’re supposed to practice the prayer today,” I said, blinking. “I’m leading the prayer.”

Her smile was brittle. “I’m sure Miss Franklin will do a fine job filling in. And maybe by Wednesday’s practice, you’ll be feeling more yourself.”

Sick for real now, I could only nod. Behind my parents, Saylor Stark was the last person in the world I wanted to disappoint. And there was no mistaking that tone. Not only had she caught me skipping class, I was skipping class with her nephew, whom I had clearly sucked into my downward spiral. If she knew that I’d also made him an accessory to what might have been murder . . .

And that’s when it hit me. David was Saylor’s nephew. He had lived with her his whole life. If people wanted to kill him, surely Saylor would know why. But how exactly did you go about asking something like that? Hi, Miss Saylor, are y’all by any chance in the witness protection program? Or hiding from wizards? She wouldn’t just take the prayer away from me after that. She’d kick me out of the entire Cotillion. Maybe even out of the entire town.

As she dusted imaginary dirt from her slacks, I watched Saylor, trying to see if there was any sign that she knew why David and I had been speeding down the street. But between the huge sunglasses and Saylor’s Perfect Southern Lady ability to repress any and all emotions, I couldn’t tell.