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"That wasn't the job," she says.

"How am I supposed to tell the difference?"

"You're not." She says it plainly, without defending herself, which is the only mercy she's offered me all morning. "That's what it is. That's what I did."

"What happens tomorrow night?"

"I can't tell you."

"Lila."

"I physically can’t, and you don't want me to try in a parked car with the engine running." She looks at the mirror, quick, the way she's looked at it twice already.

"There are things I've said out loud today that I'm going to be paying for."

"Then give me something."

"I'm going to give you the one thing that matters." She turns to face me. "Ask Evelyn Sorrell what the room is for."

"What?"

"She offered you a room. Behind the gates. Made up and waiting." Lila's mouth twists. "Ask her to walk you into it. Then ask her to stand outside in the hall and let you open the door by yourself."

"You're going to tell me the Lantern Coven is the bad guy?" I say. "Today. You?"

"I'm going to tell you what they're doing this week, and you can check it in an hour." She holds up a hand, counting.

"They're not going to walk you through midnight. They're going to contain you. They’ve set up that room to hold a witch through her own awakening and have her come through it on the other side quietly. They've been at it since Sunday, which is why she pulled everyone off your street. She needed them at the house."

"Why would she…?"

"Because she's terrified of you and she thinks she’s doing the right thing." Lila's voice cracks down the middle. "Maren, the wards in that room face in."

"That's verifiable," I say.

"That's why I picked it."

"And I'm supposed to believe you?"

"No." She almost laughs. "Goddess, no. You're supposed to go stand in the doorway and find out for yourself."

"Who sent you down here this morning?"

"Nobody knows I'm here," she says.

"What happens when they find out?"

"Don't ask."

"Lila."

"I've spent three years being the one they trusted." She wipes under one eye with her thumb, careful, like there's still makeup to save. "Let's not think about that. It’s done."

The worst part isn't the lying. It’s that she's still so good at this. She's still the smartest person I know. She's sitting here with her whole life on fire, handing me the one piece of information that will do me the most good, in the exact order I need it.

She's still my friend. That's the rub. Nobody removed her.

I keep waiting for the woman across from me to turn into a stranger, the way it happens in movies, one blink and the mask slides off and you can hate her cleanly.