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Oh, crap.

No. Again, that was part of my revenge. The whole handholding thing had just been about drawing him in closer and closer, letting him think I was falling for him.

"So what's the plan?" Max asked from the driver's seat.

"The plan is to very anonymously go up against Tristan's company so we can stop this awful development from happening," Annalise told him.

"I know that. I meant right now. What are we doing?"

"Don't you listen at all? I only told you like five times."

"Baby, you know I hang off your every word."

She rolled her eyes, but there was no heat to it, just amusement at the man beside her. "We're meeting with a lawyer and a community leader to see what we can do. Because this asshole must be stopped. And we're not stopping until his plan is destroyed, his reputation is in tatters, and his whole damn life is bleeding out."

Max shot her a look that was pure adoration. "God, I love you."

She smiled softly before turning back to me. "This isn't just about payback, Astrid. We can actually win. We can actually helppeople. Real people. Families, small business owners, tenants who have lived there for decades. And if Tristan has to take a financial hit in the process, well, that's just a bonus."

A low whistle sounded from Max. "I'd just like to point out that this is kind of sexy. You, fighting for justice."

Annalise flicked his arm. "Focus."

I stared out the window as Max turned a corner, the Manhattan skyline shrinking behind us. My breath made the cold glass fog up, the streetlights slowly turning on as dusk began its inevitable descent.

My stomach felt weird, heavy, and a little queasy. Was I hungry? Or was it just nerves?

Or was it regret? No. Not regret. Doubt. And doubt was dangerous.

God, my emotions were all over the place lately. One second, I was mooning over my old high school bully and the relationship he had with his little brother, and the next, I was ready to burn Tristan's whole life down.

Was I about to start my period? I never bothered to track my cycle since I was so irregular. I always had been, so what was the point? It'd been a while though. So maybe that was all this was—premenstrual mood swings.

"Everything okay?" Aria asked me, tearing me from my thoughts.

"Oh, I'm fine."

Annalise gave me a look. "No, you're not. You're making that face."

"What face?"

"The guilty one."

"I don't have a guilty face," I protested.

"You totally do," Annalise said. "Like a golden retriever who got caught with her head in the trash."

"Um, okay. That's flattering." I laughed. But I had to concede. Because she was right. I did feel guilty. At least in this exact moment. Later, the fiery need for revenge would probably return. "I don't know. I mean, Tristan's a grade A asshole, obviously. But it still feels kind of... I don't know, mean?"

Annalise let out a short laugh. "Astrid. This man was responsible for making you miserable in high school. I was the one who picked you up that day. I was the one who literally talked you off the ledge. I was the one who wiped away your tears."

"I did too," Aria said softly.

That emotional lump rose up in my throat, and I nodded at them, incapable of speaking. What would I do without these two? I hoped I never had to find out. At least not for many, many years.

"And now," Annalise continued, "he's actively trying to bulldoze an entire neighborhood for profit. His dad is practically a cartoon villain in the finance world. And you're worried about being mean? You're actually hesitating?"

I exhaled through my nose. "I'm not hesitating. I'm just... making sure."