It shocks me so much I can’t seem to speak when he releases me. I’m still staring after him in confusion when he leaves the room, and it’s only the sound of Solana’s voice that brings me back to the present.

“Mercedes, what the hell is going on?” She comes to my side, Georgie squeezing in on the other. “Who is that guy?”

“He’s my… guardian,” I try to explain.

Both of them frown. I don’t know how to navigate this situation. I’ve never needed to describe something like this to an outsider. Everyone in The Society understands the rules, but the rest of the world doesn’t. It isn’t something they can wrap their heads around. It will take a delicate balance of giving them enough information to satiate their concerns but not too much to endanger them.

“You’re twenty-five years old,” Georgie says. “Why would you need a guardian?”

“It’s… complicated,” I grumble. “But this is how things work in my world. I know it’s hard to understand but please try. It’s Judge’s job to protect me. He wasn’t lying about that.”

“Protect you from what?” Solana asks.

I dip my gaze to the floor, recalling the reason I ended up here in the first place. “From myself, mostly.”

They glance at each other, and Georgie’s hand squeezes mine. “Are you in danger?”

“Do you want to be here?” Solana adds.

“I’m not in danger,” I assure them, though nothing has ever felt like more of a lie. “And… I’m safe here.”

They aren’t fooled by my vague assertions, and it shows.

“I just don’t understand this,” Georgie growls. “Something isn’t right. We want you to come back with us. Please, Mercedes.”

“I can’t do that.” I offer him a shaky smile. “I’m sorry, but—”

“Are you in the mafia?” Solana whispers, her eyes wide. “Is that it?”

I can’t help but laugh at her observation, but she doesn’t share my amusement.

“What else am I supposed to think?” she hisses quietly. “You’re so guarded about your life. Your family. We realized after you disappeared how little we actually know about you. Then this guy shows up at Georgie’s shop, throwing around his wealth, and gives us this address with a mysterious invitation. And this place… it’s like a fucking fortress. None of it adds up.”

My eyes drift to the vases of roses around the room, and a strange warmth creeps over my chest. I know there are more important things to focus on, but I can’t understand why Judge would buy all of those.

“Does this have something to do with that weird tattoo on the back of your neck?” Georgie asks.

I stiffen at the mention of it, and they don’t miss it.

“It means something,” Solana agrees. “But you’ve never explained it.”