Stella twirled hers—the joker—in between her fingers. “I can’t help but think this means Jewel doesn’t take me seriously. I’m a joke to her? The nerve.”

The flight attendant staff were missing in action, but among the chaos there were orderly food trays of finger sandwiches, colorful macarons, and tiny cakes with tiny labels attached. Stella loaded her plate with a bit of everything and stole a whole teapot and milk for herself.

Out of nowhere, Francis commented, “She’s like a puppy. A vicious little Chihuahua wearing a frilly blue dress and bow.”

“Who?” Nicole asked while arranging her sandwiches by color on her plate. He gestured to the game, and she asked, “You mean Luna? She’s a sweetheart. What are you talking about?”

The vicious puppy in question was talking a mile a minute, all but hopping around Jewel in an excited circle. For her part, Jewel seemed engaged, replying, laughing, and looking at Luna as if she actually cared about her. Maybe she did.

Stella thought they could be mistaken for sisters—the adorable mini-me and the big sister she idolized. “What’s with the scarf?” she asked Alex. “Why won’t she take it off?”

“It’s her sister’s.”

“I think it’s cute,” Harlow said. “She’s nice, and it’s not hurting anybody.”

“Yet,” Stella said, intentionally drawing everyone’s attention. “What? I’m just agreeing with Francis. He might not be wrong.”

“Luna wouldn’t hurt anybody,” Alex said, defensive.

“Oh please,” Stella said, pouring another cup of tea. “I like her, truly, but you’d be stupid and get exactly what you deserved if you underestimated her. She’s surprisingly aggressive for someone so small.”

Was that 100 percent true? Probably not, but the statement served its purpose. Francis had broached a subject Stella had been pondering since seeing puzzle-solving-extraordinaire Luna in action in the Wardrobe Room. She said one thing with her words, something different with her body language, and her eyes gave her true intentions dead away.

The moon definitely had a calculating, dark side.

“Aggressive how? Because she wants to win?” Harlow asked. “Honestly, I’m with her. I’m not convinced any of you are taking the game anywhere near serious enough.”

“We’re not supposed to talk about the game,” Francis said.

Stella said, “We’re not. We’re talking about Luna.”

“There’s more than one type of aggression,” Nicole said. “I’m not saying Stella and Francis are right, or even that I agree with them, but just because Luna’s not in your face, bossing you around, doesn’t mean she’s not quietly plotting your downfall.”