I’m so relieved when Ollie slides into a seat next to me—until I remember Levi’s right across from us.

“I would love to walk up to that girl right now and give her a piece of my mind,” Ollie grumbles. He means Harlowe. He must have seen the poster before Levi ripped it down.

“What is wrong with you two?” I set my water glass down with a thud. “Both of you. Yes, you, Levi. And you, Ollie. Do you think I can’t take care of myself?”

They both stare at me like I’ve lost my mind—then both of them smile, exchanging an eye roll. That only makes me angrier.

“I will deal with Harlowe, thank you very much.” I grab my tray and leave the table, bussing it and exiting into the blustery night air.

Late that night, waiting in the Tower Room with Pippa, Theodora, Maude, and Levi for the junior Ten members to arrive, I refuse to meet Levi’s eyes. I can’t believe he and Ollie shared that look, like they were in cahoots. Like they think I can’t fight my own battles.

I’m tired after my long day traveling cross-country, despite being on California time. But I’m hit with a jolt of energy the moment Harlowe and the other juniors walk in the room, with Harlowe leading the charge. I notice Sophie and Willa; they trail the other three, hesitant. I can only hope they haven’t gone over to the dark side.

“Things are really coming along in our planning for the rally,” Harlowe announces to the group gleefully as she plops in a chair. “Too bad none of you are DAAM members.” She shrugs. “You’re really missing out.” Her eyes scan the circle, finally landing on mine. “Oh, hey. Good thing your boyfriend rode in like a knight in shining armor this evening,” Harlowe says to me coolly. She has no idea how much that comment rankles me. But I don’t let on.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I saw was that poster,” I answer her, emotion absent from my voice. “And it spoke for itself.”

“Did it?” Harlowe asks, shooting Ivy a look. “Because there’s a lot more it could have said, besides ‘clone.’” She pretends to pick a piece of lint from her jeans. “Maybe the next poster will be more explicit. Like detailing how you leaped from that boathouse roof like someone possessed.”

I stare at her, my wheels turning.

It was her. The person standing behind the trees watching me that day. I knew it.

“I already let the colleges know, so you can thank me later,” Harlowe adds.

“Let the colleges know what?” I feel my entire body tensing, like a rubber band about to snap.

“About your suicidal tendencies.” She shrugs. “No one attempts a daredevil stunt like that unless they want to die—”