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“Is the heating vent shut?” Mom asked, about to step into my room.

I shuffled sideways, cutting her off. “I don’t think so. It doesn’t feel cold to me.” I ruffled Harris’s hair, desperately trying to change the subject. “You going to bed?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Good night.” I kissed the top of his head.

“I’m going to say good night to Marcus!” Harris said.

“Marcus isn’t home,” I said.

“He got in, like, fifteen minutes ago,” Mom said. “Apparently he got the nights for the party mixed up. It’s next week.”

“Fifteen minutes ago?” My stomach lurched. The ladder had definitely been up fifteen minutes ago. Had Marcus seen it? Or worse, had he seen Ryan climbing up it? Or down it?

“Yes, why?” Mom said.

“I should go say hi.” I exited my room, pulled my door shut behind me so Mom wouldn’t go inside, and headed for the stairs.

“Everything okay, Jasmine?” Mom asked, following me.

I walked backward a few steps. “Yes. All good.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she knew there was something I wasn’t telling her. I whirled back toward the stairs, not saying another word. She was already too suspicious. I didn’t need to give her more fuel. Now I needed to see what Marcus knew.

Chapter 21

“Hey,” I said as I walked into the kitchen. Marcus was standing at the island putting butter on a piece of toast.

“What?” he asked.

“What, what?” I asked.

“Why did you say it like that?”

“Why did I say what like what?”

“You’re being weird,” he said.

Geez, I really was terrible at lying. “You’re being weird.” I let out a breath of relief, realizing he didn’t know anything. “Heard you don’t know how to remember dates for parties.”

“Yeah, well, my friends are idiots. Know any of those?” He looked at me with raised eyebrows.

Okay, never mind, maybe he did know something. “Idiots?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Plenty,” I said, pointing at him.

He tore off a piece of crust and threw it at me before taking a bite of his toast. I picked up the crust and ripped it in half, dropping each piece onto the island. What I really wanted to talk to Marcus about was the lawsuit, now that I knew it was really happening. I still didn’t want to ruin his last full season here. But I didn’t want all the future seasons to get ruined for everyone.

“I heard something tonight,” I said.

“Yeah?” he said around his mouthful.

“Someone in the neighborhood is suing for noise and light pollution and car congestion. They want all this—the holiday lights, the tradition—to go away.”

“Who?” he asked.