“I didn’t lie, exactly….”

“Sneaking away is lying.”

“Yes, but… could you slow down, please, Unc? My head’s killing me.” The morning sun made her eyes feel bruised.

Uncle Will stopped near a newsstand and ran a hand through his hair. A street urchin waved a newspaper at him and he shooed the boy away. “This was a terrible idea. I’m a bachelor; I haven’t a clue how to be a parent, or even an uncle.”

“That isn’t true. You’re terribly uncle-ish. Why, you’re the most uncle-ish person I know.”

“Uncle-ish isn’t a word.”

“Well, it should be. And it should have your picture beside it in the dictionary.”

“The charm won’t work, Evie. I forbade you from going out last night for a very good reason. Yet, you chose to disregard my reasonable request.”

“Oh, but Unc—”

“And I specifically warned you about getting into trouble, did I not? Well, I believe it’s quite clear that this arrangement will not work.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Evie asked. Her stomach had begun to hurt.

“It’s best if you return to Ohio. I’ll ring your mother tomorrow”—he looked at his watch—“today, and make the arrangements.”

“But… it’s only the first time I’ve been in trouble!” As soon as it was out of her mouth, Evie realized how ridiculous an argument it was—almost a promise of more trouble to come—and she wished she could take it back. “Please, Unc. I’m very sorry. I won’t ever disobey you again.”

Will sagged against a lamppost. He was softening, she could tell, so she kept up her attack. “I’ll do anything. Sweep the floors. Dust the knickknacks. Make sandwiches every night. But please, please, please don’t send me back.”

“I do not intend to have this discussion on White Street with someone who smells like a distillery. I will take you back to the Bennington and you may have a nap, and—I might suggest—a bath.”

Evie gave her coat a sniff and grimaced.

“I will expect you at the museum at three o’clock. I’ll deliver my verdict then. Don’t be late.”

A long, hot bath washed the stench of the Tombs away, but despite her exhaustion, Evie was too nervous to sleep. Instead, she went to Mabel’s flat and used her special knock.

“Hey, old girl. I’m in trouble. Unc’s threatening to send me back to Ohio because of last night, and I’ve got to find a way to win him over. I think he was softening up a little, but maybe if you tell him that it was your idea he’ll go easier on me, and yes, I know that’s not entirely true, Pie Face, but this is absolument an emergency of the first order and… gee, Mabesie, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

With a furtive glance into the apartment behind her, Mabel slipped into the hallway and shut the door.

“Uh-oh. I know that face. What aren’t you telling me? Did somebody die?”

“Mother blames you for my arrest. She’s banned you from the house,” Mabel said.

Evie’s mouth opened in outrage. “Your mother’s been arrested more times than I have!”

“For the cause. She thinks getting arrested for drinking in a nightclub is amoral and a sign of capitalist greed,” Mabel whispered. “She says you’re a bad influence.”

“Golly, I hope so. Tell your mother that if it weren’t for me you’d still be wearing black stockings and reading dire Russian novels about doomed aristocrats.”

Mabel lifted her chin. “What’s wrong with Anna Karenina?”

“Everything from A to enina. Oh, look, Pie Face, just let me in, and I’ll charm her.”

“Evie, don’t—”

“Five minutes of a sob story about how I’m a product of middle-class bourgeois values lost in the machinery of a corrupt world and she’ll be organizing a rally on my behalf—”

“Don’t you ever know when to stop?” Mabel snapped. “You’re so selfish sometimes, Evie! It’s all a game to you—and you want to rig it in your favor all the time, and damn what anybody else wants.”

“That’s not true, Mabel!”

“It isn’t? I wanted to leave last night….”

“But then you would’ve missed out on all the fun. And once you got home, you’d grumble that you should’ve stayed. You’d regret it. I know you, Mabesie—”

“Do you?” Mabel shot back.