Lucy pushed through the clench in her jaw. “I’ve been canvassing my contacts. My editor at Teen Vogue knows a designer at Waze. I’ll set up an interview. Should give us an edge.”

“Okay,” Maddie said.

Things had been strained between them since the club last week.

“Appreciate it,” Maddie added. “And don’t panic. We’ll step it up.”

But Maddie, to Lucy’s surprise, had been trying. Well, the Maddie version of trying, which involved fewer eye rolls and an increased tolerance for Lucy’s fashion advice.

And more work on Lit. She’d stayed up late twice in the past week, coordinating with Delia to ensure the larger design elements wouldn’t increase load time. She’d presented three different options for the overall color scheme and, after Lucy steered them toward a darker, ultra-modern palette (obviously), had begun working on some of the more complex elements, like buttons.

She was good. Great. They all were. Which is why . . . tenth place?

No freaking way.

From somewhere above, partially hidden from the audience by the thick, ebony beams that traversed the ceiling, lights shined on the stage. This auditorium was used for lectures like this as well as performances—and Demo Day. Lucy imagined herself looking out at the creamy white walls, her voice echoing off the wood panel insets, her feet flat against the floor. She pictured herself holding the microphone, just as Nishi was doing as she walked to the center of the stage.

Lucy uncapped her pen, determined not to miss a thing.

“Everyone, please take a seat. We’re about to get started.” The coral scarf around Nishi’s neck hung perfectly, and yet her hand kept lifting to fiddle with the ends. Nishi Kapoor didn’t fiddle.

“Yes, well, okay, then.” Nishi cleared her throat. “As an administrator of ValleyStart for the past three years, I can honestly say that we have never had a more impressive panel of speakers.” Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle. “Our guests have generously donated their time to be here, so let’s be considerate listeners and thoughtful in our questions.”

She introduced two women, a CEO of her own social media company, who was black and in her early forties, and the other, a principal engineer at a software business, who was white and in her early thirties. And then Nishi yanked so hard on that scarf, it almost dropped to the floor. She adjusted it back into place and cleared her throat again. “And our final guest is a woman who has seen Silicon Valley become Silicon Valley. She has been here long enough to know which garage origin stories are fact and which are myth.”

Gavin’s “old,” barely masked by his fake cough, made Maddie spin around and growl, “Shut it, dumbass.”

“Now, please welcome Abigail Katz.”

Abigail Katz? Lucy’s quick reflexes plastered a smile on her face though her stomach flipped with nerves.

“Wait,” Maddie whispered. “Is that your mom?”