On the app, Olive always seemed cheery and helpful. Nice in small doses, but at the table with no reprieve it made Nicole uncomfortable. Her behavior felt … fake. Plasticky. As if she were trying to overcompensate or cover something up.

“Renovations?” Nicole asked, trying to shake her discomfort. “Is that why there’s a Soda Room?”

Ethan shrugged. “MJ created Neverland Ranch. Dolly Parton has a theme park named after herself. Jewel inherited Van Hanen Winery and reached for her wildest dreams.” Now he seemed exactly the same as on the app. Unsurprising. As the Warden, he intentionally kept all the users at an unapologetic arm’s distance. Parasocial relationships weren’t his thing. He’d made that perfectly clear on more than one occasion.

That didn’t stop some of his fans from being the most notorious on the site—the Warden Wives were devoted to him.

“Oh, um, Ethan?” Luna said. “You’re in charge of security here, right?”

“I supervise all the staff, security included, yeah.”

“Okay, um, ’cause I was really, really tired and I don’t really trust my memory, but I think I saw someone outside my window last night. They were just standing on the lawn doing nothing.”

Ethan gave Luna his full attention. “What did they look like?”

“An old white guy with greasy, slicked hair. He was wearing a long blue coat, and it had shiny, reflective stuff on it.”

“Oh, oh, he’s fine. He works for me,” Ethan said, clutching his chest and exhaling in relief. “You scared me for a second there.”

“Sorry! It’s just you said there were incidents and stuff, and my sleepy brain got carried away.”

“Honestly, thank you. If you see anything strange or off, or something you’re not sure about, always tell me immediately. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Okay. I will.”

“I see you two finally decided to show up late to my party,” Jewel said.

Nicole had a sneaking suspicion Harlow was a member of Ethan’s unofficial fan club. She returned to the table, bypassing her original seat next to Luna to sit by Ethan instead.

Jewel set her mallet down and draped herself over Olive. “Move over.” They fit inside the chair together, but just barely. Jewel ended up practically in Olive’s lap, crouched like a gargoyle-barnacle chimera. Jewel looked right at Stella and said, “She’s mine. You may not have her.”

“Actually, she’s mine,” Ethan said.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but this might be a little too complicated for me. My parents would never approve,” Stella teased.

Olive, who appeared to be in good spirits about being claimed left and right, said, “Boyfriend.” She pointed to Ethan, then Jewel. “Best friend.”

“And by the end of the weekend, one of them will betray me.” Jewel laughed—and was the only one to do so.