“Didn’t you? I know what you’re doing. Trying to ingratiate yourself. Trying to make friends. Well, don’t bother. We’ll never be your friends, Sophie. Okay? Not after what you did.”

“All right. I know how you feel, Maxie.”

“No you don’t.”

“Just leave it. I’m sorry.”

“You think you’re so great, don’t you?” said Maxie. “In your leather jacket with your bow and arrow. Well, you’re nothing. The only person you’ve killed with that thing is Arran. Great. Well done.”

“Listen, Maxie,” said Sophie, and Maxie could sense the emotion in her voice, as if she was on the verge of tears. “I know we can’t be friends. But we do have to find a way to get along.”

“Why? I never wanted you with us in the first place.”

“Fine. Be like that. I thought you were cleverer, though.”

“What? What did you say?” Maxie advanced on Sophie. “Don’t insult me.”

“Why not?” said Sophie angrily. “You insulted me. I understand about Arran. He was your boyfriend, and—”

“He was not my boyfriend. Maybe if he’d lived he might have been. But we’ll never know, will we?”

Sophie struggled to say something, then gave up. She turned her back on Maxie and walked away.

Maxie felt a brief moment of triumph, and then it was swamped by black despair. Why was she such a bitch?

She knew why.

She was tired and scared and miserable and still aching over Arran.

It wasn’t Sophie’s fault. She knew it wasn’t, but when she saw her pretty face she just wanted to lash out at her.

She swore quietly and left the main group, returning to the central well. She needed to be alone for a minute. It was quieter here. There was no one around—and no one keeping watch. She looked over the low wall. Shone her flashlight down, searching the floors below.

She caught her breath.

There was something moving.

She called out.

“Hello? Anyone down there? Hey! We need to keep together.”

Nothing. No sound. No movement. Maybe she’d imagined it? She was so jumpy she was seeing dangers everywhere. She raked the beam over the area. It was quiet now.

She sighed and turned to walk along the balcony.

Sophie was there, about four yards away, her bow up to her face. The string was drawn back, an arrow glinting, ready to be fired. Her face was set into a hard mask. Her eyes wide in the gloom.

Maxie swallowed. The blood throbbed in her head. She really didn’t know this girl at all. Know what she was capable of.

“Don’t move,” said Sophie coldly, but Maxie couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to. She was welded to the spot. Her legs felt like they were made of lead.