“I’ve been thinking about that too. At some point, the game is going to force us to separate since only two of us can win,” she said. “Part of me feels like maybe I didn’t want it bad enough, which feels really weird to admit out loud. Every fiber of my being knows exactly how that money can change my life for the better. But I didn’t have a strategy. I was content to let Stella lead—still am. That’s not how a winner plays.”

“You played the game your way,” he said with a shrug. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re not Jewel. You’re not Luna or Stella. Sometimes losing is okay if you were able to stay true to who you are.”

And who was she exactly?

JadeTheBabe. Nicole. Her father’s daughter and her mama’s mini-me.

An orphan with two jobs, big dreams, an even bigger heart, and an iron will.

“It took me a long time to get comfortable wanting things for myself. I still struggle with it, honestly. I have to live so minimally—I wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise—that I just stopped hoping. This place is too much, but is it bad to want a balcony that faces the west with a nice view of trees or the ocean? I would love to have something like that someday,” she said. “We can’t give up yet. We have to play until the end. Whatever happens, we keep going.”

“When this is over, if we don’t end up in jail, I was wondering if you would want to go out sometime?”

Surprised, Nicole tore her gaze away from the beautiful sunset.

Francis continued, “I know I’m here and you’re a few hours away, but if you wanted to keep in touch, that’d be cool too.” He cleared his throat and wouldn’t look at her. “Yeah.”

Nicole laughed, softly, heart fluttering all on its own. “Francis, this whole weekend with you has felt like one long weird, and at times wonderful, date. I think we’ve passed the ‘let’s keep in touch’ stage.”

SATURDAY, 8:15 P.M.

“Stella?” Nicole opened the red door while knocking. “Can I come in? I brought cookies.”

“Even if you didn’t have cookies, you’d be welcome,” Stella said. She’d already changed into her pajamas—a matching set of chilly penguins kissing. The presents had been spread out on one side of her bed, while she lay on the other, staring up at the ceiling. Her tablet had the nonsensical poem open.