Raven looks wary. “It sucks,” she says. “What she’ll have to go through will suck, so don’t be upset if she says no.”

The comment hurts me because I know Raven is right. Adrian will face an onslaught of harassment for complaining about harassment. I’m starting to see that it’s how the system survives—intimidating victims. Otherwise, society would have to change. It’s easier to play along.

“Then keep her out of it,” Marcella says. “We’ll handle it. We’re not human. We don’t have to play by their rules.”

“Can, um … Can I make a suggestion?” Jackson asks, seeming embarrassed to interrupt.

“Why don’t you let us handle things while you … you do whatever it is you’re good at,” Raven tells him.

“He’s good at sticking around,” Marcella says, flashing Jackson a smile.

“Thanks,” he replies good-naturedly.

“What are you thinking?” I ask him, curious.

“Well, I’m thinking you’re charming. Beautiful. Smart.”

“Is this going somewhere?” Raven interrupts.

“It is,” Jackson replies, still watching me. “Mena, you don’t need to convince all those guys. You just need the most important one. Get him to own up to it and the rest will fall in line. They’ll want his approval.”

“Boys are so easily led?” Sydney asks.

“Some of them,” Jackson says. “They want someone to look up to. If you have a guy who’s claiming to be that hero, they’ll trust him. They’ll trust him more than they’ll trust you.”

“The human boy makes a good point,” Marcella says. Jackson gives her an amused but quizzical look before turning back to me.

“Is there a guy like that?” he asks me. “One at the top of the food chain?”

“That would be Jonah Grant,” I say. “They all listen to him. And he’ll be at the party tonight,” I say.

“Then so will you,” Marcella says.

“And me,” Sydney adds.

“Oh, can I go?” Brynn asks.

“We’ll all go,” Marcella says. “Just in case.”

“Thanks,” Annalise says. “But I’ll stay here. Jackson has given me all the male interaction I need for the day.”

He looks at her. “Good?”

“Sure,” she replies. “You brought pizza.”

“Wait,” Brynn starts, confused, “if we get the boys to admit what they’ve done, admit to being predators … then we …?”

“We kill them,” Annalise finishes for her, reaching over to pat her leg.

“What?” Jackson asks, wide-eyed.

“Kidding,” Annalise whispers to him, sounding like she’s only half joking.

“I know a reporter,” Raven interjects. “Mena, let me see your phone.”

Jackson points in Annalise’s general direction. “Are we not going to address that comment, or … ?”

I hand Raven my phone, and she pulls out the SIM card. She grabs her backpack and sets it on the coffee table. As she begins to remove small boxes and items, I lean forward.

“Although I’d love to think Jonah will just admit everything,” I tell the girls, “I don’t think it will be that easy. I doubt he’ll take responsibility at all. And he certainly won’t help us convince the other boys.”

“I have an idea,” Marcella says. “We go to the party, and while we distract the other guests, Mena has a moment alone with Jonah where she tries to get him to confess.”

Jackson winces. “Please don’t make her talk to him alone.”

“I’ll be with her,” Sydney says. She motions for Marcella to continue.

“If Jonah doesn’t admit to anything on his own,” Marcella explains, “get him to confess unwittingly, strain his ego. His patience. Something will work. Then, we use his confession to convince the other boys that he turned on him.” She smiles broadly, wrapping it up.

“That’s so smart,” Brynn says.

“I saw it on Law and Order,” Marcella admits.

“Here,” Raven says, holding my phone out to me. “I installed a recorder. It’ll stream everything directly to my computer. Once you’re done, we’ll submit the highlights to the paper anonymously.”

I take the phone, looking it over. Then I slip it inside my pocket.

“You don’t need to base it on Law and Order,” Raven says. “Just go to the party, ask about the incident at lunch, and get eyewitness accounts. Ask about past events. I have no doubt one of them will overshare. Judging by the posts they’ve put up, they’re proud. We can use whatever recording you get for the reporter to expand upon. By the time the story runs its course, the vice principal will be dismissed, and the school will have to deal with the fallout. We might even suggest their financial disclosures get a closer look.”

“Which could expose the investor,” I say, making the connection. “Crimes unrelated to the corporation, but still.”

“Exactly,” Raven says. “It might get the school’s assets frozen, which in turn would cut off the flow of money to Innovations. Expose the laundering scheme. Once I have the recordings, I’ll pass them on to a few female reporters, the ones who are actually interested in justice despite repeated death threats.”

“Death threats?” I ask.

“The joys of being a female public figure,” Raven says sarcastically.

“She’s not wrong,” Jackson says.

“Oh, thank you,” Raven replies. Her hostility toward him seems strangely placed.

Raven types a few things on her computer before setting it aside. She rests her elbows on her knees.

“Before we do anything else,” she says, “we need to get that tracker signal out of your heads. And while I’m there, I’ll put in a firewall.”

I thought I would be able to let her install the software, but when she looks directly at me, I’m not so sure anymore.

“Wait,” Jackson says, looking from Raven to me. “You’re going to let a hacker inside your programming? I mean, wouldn’t that kind of be letting a bank robber into the vault?”

“Depends what you’re worried I’m going to steal, Jackson,” Raven replies.

Jackson studies her, concern radiating from him. He leans toward me.

“Just consider all your options,” he says to me quietly. I look at Raven.

“If I say yes to this procedure,” I begin, “it would give you complete access to my programming and my memories, right? My entire existence. Essentially … you’d see my soul.”

Raven doesn’t hesitate. “That’s correct,” she says. Annalise looks over, surprised, but Raven doesn’t acknowledge her stare.

“I’d have access to your entire self,” Raven continues. “You’d have to trust me.”

The room falls quiet until Sydney sighs loudly. “Do mine first,” she announces. I look sideways at her and see that she’s scared. But she knows that I’m not ready, so she’s volunteering to ease my worry.

“What?” Sydney asks me with a shrug. “You think I’m going to let you get overwritten alone?”