Page 243 of Swallow Your Sorries

Étienne’s at her side in seconds. One minute she’s down on all fours and the next she’s up in Étienne’s arms and he’s flying them both towards the nurse’s station.

Behind them, Zedd trails with an empty tray looking utterly murderous. Hale’s arm is around his shoulder and Stassi’s yapping animatedly in his ear.

“What the…” Sylo whispers beside me but someone else is emerging from the theatre with a click of her cane.

Mistress takes in the fleeing students, the rose bushes covered in puke and then me.

First, there’s sheer shock on her face, then acceptance, then a quick pivot.

Because the show must go on.

“Elle. Get into Cinderella’s first costume.

Elle

My mind spins as the costume department spins around me, stuffing, pulling, and pushing me this way and that into a new costume.

Cinderella’s costume.

I’m going to be Cinderella.

It feels surreal as Ms. Trix places the finishing touches on my tutu because it is surreal.

Everything tonight is surreal.

My mother.

Cinderella.

My chance in front of the university scouts.

Aria’s sickness. My father. Sylo’s father.

Sylo’s father…

My uncle…?

The green car…

The green car! What car did he come in? Surely he can’t be idiotic enough to still drive the same car? The same car that killed his wife’s sister? No, this isn’t a working-class man. He probably has a dozen vintage cars in his six-car garage at one of his estates.

But the desire to check, to scour the car park bubbles in me so strongly that for one delirious second when I’m finally alone at the vanity backstage, I leap to my feet and I’m about to bolt from the room when someone slips in.

Rin.

“I don’t care about your sugar daddy exchange,” I say, trying to brush past her. “So if you’re here to confront me about it, get out of the way.”

“As if I care to discuss my private matters with you. No, I’m far too interested in yours.” She holds up her phone showing me a small clip of the interaction I’d just had outside with Sylo’s father and a blubbering Jaime.

Yeah,Jaime.

“Do you record everything?” I ask, my patience already running thin.

“Only if I think it’ll benefit me. Monetarily or otherwise, but the best thing about knowing everything isn’t knowing everything. It’s knowing how and when to play it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I play Uno. Now move.”

“You didn’t play Gant’s tape at the right time. You didn’t play the right tape at all. All that work and what did it get you? A temporary boyfriend.”

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