The Range Rover pulled into an empty parking lot overlooking the Schuylkill River. Vivienne killed the engine and the silence hit like a brick.

My hands were already up. "Look, I appreciate whatever this is, but—"

"Quiet." Vivienne’s voice cut through the dark. "For once in your life, just be quiet and listen."

I shut my mouth. Something in her tone said this wasn’t a request.

She turned in the driver’s seat to face the back. "Harlow. You first."

"Me?" Harlow’s voice went up an octave. "But I thought—"

"You were the one who said we should tell him together. So tell him."

Harlow shifted in her seat. I could feel her nervous energy radiating through the leather interior. She took a breath.

"Okay. Um. Isaiah."

"Yeah?"

"I like you. Like, a lot. And not in the ’you’re nice’ way or the ’you help me with homework’ way. I like you in the way where my stomach does weird things when you text me, and I can’t stop thinking about you, and when you leave the house I feel like all the color drains out of the world."

She paused. I could hear her breathing in the dark.

"You’re the first person in my entire life who doesn’t look at me and see Harlow Valentine, V-Girl brand ambassador with 2.3 million followers. You just see... me. The me who likes anime and makes bad jokes and eats ice cream for breakfast sometimes. You remember that I like strawberry because you actually listen when I talk. And when you helped me study, you didn’t make me feel stupid for getting distracted. You just worked with how my brain actually works."

My chest felt tight. This was not how I thought tonight was going to go.

"And I know this is complicated," Harlow continued, her voice getting smaller. "I know you work for us. I know Mother would probably kill you. But I had to tell you because Vivienne kissed you and Sabrina is planning something and Cassidy looks at you like she wants to either fight you or kiss you or both, and if I didn’t say it now, I’d never say it at all."

She stopped. The river outside made quiet sounds against the bank.

"Okay. I’m done. That’s everything."

Jesus Christ.

I didn’t know what to do with that. With any of that.

Vivienne’s voice came next, directed not at me but at Sabrina. "Your turn."

Sabrina shifted. I could picture her in my mind, sitting there with that book she probably wasn’t reading.

"I knew from the beginning that you were different." Her voice was even. Calm. Like she was discussing the weather. "The first time you walked into that library and pulled out The Count of Monte Cristo, I understood that you saw things. Patterns. People. The way they hide behind words and clothes and smiles that mean nothing."

She paused. Water lapped against concrete somewhere below us.

"You sat with me when I needed someone to sit. You didn’t ask questions or demand explanations. You just existed beside me, which is a skill most people never learn. And when I fell asleep on your shoulder, you didn’t move. You stayed until I woke, which meant you cared more about my comfort than your own."

I heard pages turning. She was nervous.

"I’ve spent two years watching people, Isaiah. I see their motivations. Their lies. The masks they wear to get through the day. But you don’t wear masks well. You try, but everything you are bleeds through anyway. You’re kind even when it costs you. You’re patient even when you shouldn’t be. And you care about people who probably don’t deserve it."

The bear I’d given her made a small sound, like she’d squeezed it.

"I don’t have words for what I want from you. I’m still figuring it out myself. But I know that when you’re not here, the library feels colder. And when you leave on Sunday nights, I count the hours until Wednesday. That should tell you enough."

Silence filled the car again.

Two down. Two to go.

This was torture. This was worse than anything Camille could’ve threatened me with.

"Cassidy," Vivienne prompted.

"Yeah, yeah. I’m going."

Cassidy’s voice came from the seat behind me. She kicked the back of my chair.

"You’re an idiot."

That got a laugh out of me before I could stop it.

"What? You are. You’re a complete moron for taking this job in the first place. Seven guys quit before you. SEVEN. And you showed up anyway with your stupid calm face and your boring ties and your ’I’ll handle it’ attitude like you had any idea what you were walking into."

She kicked my chair harder.

"And then you made me CARE about passing math. Do you know how much I hate that? I was perfectly fine being the stupid Valentine. It was my whole identity. The rebel. The screwup. The one Mother stopped expecting anything from. But then you showed up with your graph paper and your colored pens and your ’let’s make it a game’ bullshit, and suddenly I was scoring ninety on practice quizzes and staying up until two in the morning doing problems VOLUNTARILY because I wanted to prove to you that I could."

Her voice cracked slightly.

"And then you held me on the tennis court like I wasn’t going to shatter into a million pieces. And you sat with me in my room and didn’t run when I got too close. And you made me believe, for like five seconds, that maybe I’m not actually broken. Maybe I just needed someone patient enough to figure out how I work."

She went quiet. I could hear her breathing hard.

"So yeah. I like you too. And it pisses me off because you’re the help and I’m supposed to be better than falling for the help. But here we are, and I can’t stop thinking about you, and every time you text me my heart does this stupid thing where it forgets how to beat properly. So congratulations. You ruined me. Happy now?"

The last two words came out choked.

Three down.

I was going to die in this car. My heart couldn’t take whatever Vivienne was about to say.

"My turn," Vivienne said quietly.