“Might as well join the fray, huh? Those hors d’oeuvres look amazing,” says Ashley.

And they do. There are trays of miniature Christmas food from around the world being passed around, from little Yorkshire puddings filled with roast turkey and gravy, to tiny slices of Tourtière, bowls of poutine with cardboard forks, and Nigerian meat pies stuffed with potatoes and carrots and minced meat. There are little mince pies as well (the British kind, with preserved fruit and sugar), and Christmas cookies galore on an elaborate buffet table at the back.

My mom would have died and gone to cooking heaven if she could have been here. Or maybe not anymore… I want her to be back in the state of mind where she could enjoy this type of feasting again.

We walk down the stairs, and, as I move my way through the crowd, I hold my breath. I know it’s stupid, but I feel so small and out of place, it’s like I don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as these people. I’m sure I recognize a lot of them from my school textbooks and from the documentaries I’ve watched about Moncha Corp—and isn’t that the mayor? And even the prime minister over there? Oh my god, I’m at a party with the leader of the country, on Christmas Eve Eve. I have to pinch myself.

>>I can tell you who any party guest is.

Slick’s voice is in my ear.

“What?” I whisper to him.

>>One of the prerequisites of accepting an invitation to this party is that you enable yourself to be identified. So I have a list of everyone here and I can name them for you.

“So who is that over there?”

>>Canadian prime minister, Mr. Alain Cartier.

I breathe out through my teeth. I was right. “Wow. Neat trick, Slick.” It must be helpful to all these people so they don’t forget the name of someone important.

Once again, I lift my head and see Aero on the far side of the room. I want to get to Tobias, to have him see me in my pretty dress. He’s never seen me in anything like this before, and I have butterflies of excitement in my tummy.

I spin around to walk in his direction, and too late, Slick chirrups a name in my ear.

Too late, because I know exactly who I’m walking toward—I don’t need the baku to fill me in.

>>Stay calm, Lacey. Remember, he doesn’t know that I’m here.

I hear Jinx’s voice, and I take several deep breaths.