“You’re my prisoner now,” Finnula Crais said, with evident satisfaction at a job well done. “To gain your freedom, you’ll have to pay for it. Handsomely.”

Saturday, April 29, 10 a.m., the loft

Ever since I’ve woken up, all I can think about is what that reporter said…about Dad losing in the polls and it being all my fault.

I know it’s not true. I mean, yes, it’s true we’re having an election.

But the fact that Dad is losing isn’t my fault.

And then, naturally, my mind keeps turning back to what Grandmère said, back in Dr. Knutz’s office. About how if we could get our hands on one of Michael’s CardioArms, Dad might stand a better chance against René.

Except I know how wrong it is to think that way. The reason we need a CardioArm is because it would make the lives of the citizens of Genovia so much easier.

A CardioArm at the Royal Genovian Hospital wouldn’t stimulate the economy or bring tourists to Genovia or even help Dad in the polls or anything like that, like Grandmère seems to believe.

But it would help Genovians who are sick not to have to travel to hospitals outside of our country to get medical care, because instead, they could easily get noninvasive heart surgery right inside our own borders. They’d save time and expense.

Plus, like the article said, they’d heal faster, because of the CardioArm’s precision.

I’m not saying if we got one, people would be more likely to vote for Dad. I’m just saying, getting one would be the right thing to do—the princessy thing to do—for my own people.

And I’m not saying by going to the thing today, I want to get back together with Michael. I mean, if he’d even have me, which he fully wouldn’t, because he’s moved on, as is illustrated by the fact that clearly, he’s been in Manhattan for a while now, and hasn’t even so much as called. Or e-mailed.

I’m just saying obviously I should go to the thing at Columbia today. Because it’s what a true princess would do for her people. Get them the most up-to-date medical technology available.

Just how I’m going to do that without looking like the world’s biggest tool, I have no idea. I mean, I can’t go, “Um, Michael, due to the fact that we used to date, even though I treated you horribly, can you jump Genovia to the top of the waiting list and get us a CardioArm right away? Here’s a check.”

But I think that’s pretty much the way it’s going to go. Part of being a princess means swallowing your pride and doing the right thing for your people, no matter how personally humiliating it might be.

And anyway, he still owes me for the Judith Gershner thing. I understand now that the reason Michael didn’t tell me about how he had sex with her before he and I started going out was because he knew I wasn’t mature enough at the time to handle the information.

He was right: I wasn’t.

And though it might be really manipulative and awful of me to use my past romantic relationship with Michael to try to get him to let us jump to the head of the CardioArm waiting list, this is Genovia we’re talking about.

And it’s my royal duty to do whatever I have to do for my country.

I haven’t spent the past four years with the combs of a tiara digging into my head for nothing, you know.

I guess I didn’t just learn which one was the soup spoon from Grandmère, after all.

I better go call Tina.

Saturday, April 29, 1:45 p.m., Columbia

University Medical Center, Simon and Louise

Templeman Patient Care Pavilion

This. Was. The. Worst. Idea. Ever.

I know this morning when I woke up I had some big noble idea that I was doing something way important for the people of Genovia.

And—okay, I’ll admit it, maybe in some twisted way, I guess, for my dad.

But in actuality, this is just insane. I mean, Michael’s entire family is here. All the Moscovitzes! Even his grandma! Yes! Nana Moscovitz is here!

I’m so embarrassed I could die.

And, okay, I’ve made us all sit in the very back row (security here is very lax: They let us all in, even though we only had the two passes), where, thank God, it doesn’t appear there’s any chance any of them is going to see us (but Lars and Wahim, Tina’s bodyguard, are so tall, what are the chances of them not being noticed? I’ve made them wait outside. They’re so mad at me. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t risk the chance of Lilly seeing them).

And I know the whole point of this was my actually speaking to Michael.

But I didn’t know Lilly was going to be here! Which was incredibly stupid of me. I should have assumed, of course. I mean, that Michael’s family (including his sister, who brought Kenny, I mean Kenneth, who is wearing a SUIT. And Lilly is wearing a dress…and she’s taken out all her piercings. I barely recognized her) would, of course, be at such an important and prestigious event.

How can I go up and talk to Michael in front of her? It’s true Lilly and I are not exactly at each other’s throats anymore, but we’re definitely not friends, either. The last thing I need right now is her revving up ihatemiathermopolis.com again.

Which I could totally see her doing if she suspected I was trying to use her brother to, oh, I don’t know, get a CardioArm for my country, or something.

Lana says it’s no big deal and I should just go up to the Drs. Moscovitz and say hi. Lana says she’s totally on friendly terms with all her exes’ parents (which, considering it’s Lana, is, like, half of the population of the Upper East Side), even though she’s used most of their sons for sex, and even worse things (…such as? What is worse than using a boy for sex? I don’t even want to know. Lana took Tina and me to the Pink Pussycat Boutique last year because she said we needed educating in that department, and while I did make a purchase, it was only a Hello Kitty personal massager. But you don’t even want to know what Lana bought).