“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Cross me at your peril.” Stella turned back around.

“I’m not dealing with this,” he said under his breath, and then touched Nicole’s arm softly. “I’m gonna go find Ethan. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Nicole agreed as he broke off from the group, turning down a hallway going in the opposite direction.

What in the hell was going on between Stella and Francis? Even Harlow, who’d been present physically but mentally off somewhere else for most of the morning, was openly watching them. What had Nicole missed?

She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

After they opened the black door to the office, Stella pulled her aside. “Watch video seven again. He’s in on it. Trust me.”

What? Nicole didn’t remember seeing him. Harlow beat her to the computer, sitting in the seat, so she kneeled down next to her. “I’ll watch with you. Can we play number seven, please?”

“Sure.”

Nicole kept her eyes focused on the video, skipping around trying to catch every scene and pay attention to the background. He must not have been in the forefront—she wouldn’t have missed that.

“Why isn’t our weekend like that?” Harlow said quietly. “This is what I thought it was supposed to be.”

The guilt spiral slammed into Nicole again, shattering her focus. “I don’t know,” she said. “I wish it had been too.”

Nicole had been alone in the theater with Jewel for twenty minutes, just as Ethan had promised, and left the theater believing in every single word Jewel had said about her. That was the kind of experience Harlow had been expecting this weekend—one-on-one time with someone she idolized. Someone who had the uncanny ability to zero in on exactly what you wanted and tell you exactly what you needed to hear. Someone who had the resources to help make your wildest dreams reality.

God help the world if Jewel ever decided she wanted to start a cult.

Harlow said, “She just gave them everything. Why is she torturing us with this stupid game?”

“Don’t know that either. What can I do? I want to help.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re hurting.” Nicole shrugged. “If there’s something I can do to make that easier for you to bear, I’d be happy to.”

“Can you go back in time and slap some sense into past me? Then, no. You can’t,” she said. “Sorry. I know you’re trying to be nice. I’m just really mad at Jewel right now. It didn’t have to be this way, and watching this isn’t helping.” She pushed back from the desk, walking away.