“Well, I’m no more nervous than Father is,” Poppy told her. “He’s been in a tizzy all morning. I covered his face with powder because it’s so red.” She nodded toward him, seated across the tent, fumbling with a set of speech cards. “I’m just so anxious for all this to be over. Did you hear that Vianca Augustine is throwing a party the night the results are announced? Her son agreed to go, and now everyone has to be there to watch and gossip.” Poppy smiled conspiratorially. “I hope it’s dramatic.”
“I’m sure it will be,” Enne replied carefully. She didn’t like discussing Vianca with Poppy—Enne was always afraid she’d reveal more than she meant to about how well she knew the donna.
“You’re dressed nice. Is today when I get to meet this lover you’ve told me nothing about?”
Enne laughed. “You’ve been reading too many of those books.”
“I read mysteries, too, you know.” She tapped her fingernails on the paperback’s glossy cover. “I’m collecting clues. I almost have your North Side boy figured out.”
“You’re still stuck on your North Side fantasy?” Enne also wanted to avoid talking about Levi and remembering the lies she’d spun this past week in preparation for this day. He’d be furious when he found out, yet even though the Phoenix Club had tried to kill Levi, he didn’t still hear the timer ticking down in his mind. He didn’t still tremble at the thought of facing them once more.
But the Phoenix Club had taken more from Enne than she could ever forgive.
Before Poppy could respond, Worner appeared behind them and rested a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “The manager wants us to stand together and prepare to go outside.” He nodded to the tent’s entrance, where Enne spotted Harrison Augustine in a navy suit that matched his eyepatch. Enne’s stomach churned. Estranged or not, he looked every bit as intimidating as his mother.
Enne reminded herself of the Irons and Spirits stationed all around the stage area to keep watch, but there were still so many ways today could go wrong. She wouldn’t forgive herself if anyone she cared about got hurt.
Poppy gave Enne a final smile. “Let’s celebrate tonight when this is over,” she said. Enne nodded politely, but her mind was already on murder, and whether she truly could kill a man in cold blood.
She could, she decided. From the moment she’d lost her mother, she could.
After the father-daughter pair went outside, amid cheers throughout the park, Enne slipped out herself and made for the building she and Grace had scouted earlier. Using the crowds as a distraction, she turned into the alley unnoticed, hiked up her skirts, and climbed the fire escape, up two floors, four, six.
Once at the top, she examined the rest of the climb between her and the roof with unease.
No worse than a trapeze, she told herself. Besides, she’d made the same leap last night to plant her supplies.
Enne hoisted herself over the metal railing of the stairs and reached, carefully, for the closest window. Then she clung to the bricks and climbed the rest of the way up to the roof.
To her surprise, she found Grace waiting for her, dressed in her usual all black, though her pale skin was pink from sunburn.
Enne huffed and wiped the sweat off her forehead. “How did you get up here? Shouldn’t you be with the others?”
“I’ve been here for hours.” Grace marked her place in her novel and set the book on the ground. “I decided someone needs to keep an eye on you.”
“Why is that?” Enne asked, stepping around Grace to the duffle bag she’d stashed last night. She unfastened it and revealed a sniper rifle—a token of good luck from Jonas.
“Because I’m your friend.”
“You’re going to try to talk me out of it.” Enne turned around and scowled. “Why would you let me come this far if that’s what you wanted?”
“Because I think there’s something to be said about coming this far, about knowing youcould.” Grace grabbed Enne by the shoulder and led her to the edge of the roof. Enne’s eyes immediately swept over the park to a VIP box beside the stage. It wasn’t very crowded, as most of the reporters had moved to stand closer to the podium. Aldrich Owain sat alone in a gray suit, his legs crossed. Two whiteboots stood watch behind him.
“Consider this,” Grace said. “You could shoot him right now. All it would take is pulling the trigger.”
If it was that easy, then Enne should do it. She’d manipulated Vianca. She’d lied to Levi. She’d put so many people in danger—all for this. It was far too late to back down now.
“He deserves to die,” Enne told her.
“I’m not disagreeing.”
But Enne could tell from the heaviness in Grace’s voice that she wanted to stop her all the same.
She tore Grace’s hand off her shoulder. “Aren’t you proud?”
“Should I be?” Grace asked flatly.
“Youarethe one who taught me this.” Enne brushed past her and turned back to the duffle bag.
