I took the stack of papers Lilly shoved at me. They were mostly long rows of numbers.

“Uh,” I said to Lilly. “Mr. Gianini was a great algebra teacher and all, but you know the minute I graduated high school I never looked at a single math problem again, right? I send everything with numbers on it to my accountant, or I make Michael deal with it.”

“Great. Spoken like a true feminist,” Lilly said. “I’m sure your mother must be so proud. Well, those pages hold bad news about that bohunk your sister’s aunt married. He’s been using large amounts of the child support your dad’s been sending her to finance the business he owns with her aunt, O’Toole Construction and Home Design.”

I sank down on the little bench in the dressing room, my tulle skirt ballooning around me like a huge fluffy white cloud. “I can’t take any more bad news today, Lilly. I really can’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but it gets worse.”

“What could possibly be worse than this?”

“Uncle Richard’s planning on moving the whole family to the Middle East.”

“The Middle East? Where in the Middle East?” There are many lovely places in the Middle East. I’ve had state visits to Bahrain and Jordan and Abu Dhabi. I’ve been to Egypt and Israel and Saudi Arabia. All of them are lovely countries (not without their challenges, but then, every country has its challenges).

I certainly did not expect Lilly to reply: “Qalif.”

“Qalif?” I felt as if my heart had sunk to the bottom of my tightly corseted bodice. “Why?”

“O’Toole Construction’s been contracted to build a new mall there. It’s going to have the world’s largest indoor wave machine in it. Or maybe it’s the world’s largest indoor ski slope. Oh, well, it doesn’t matter since only men can use it because the crown prince there just banned women from swimming and skiing in public.”

My eye began to twitch like mad. “You found all this out through a public records search?”

Lilly looked slightly guilty. “It’s possible I may have searched a few records that weren’t so public. But it isn’t my fault. People really shouldn’t use the word password as their password.”

“Oh, God,” I breathed. “This isn’t happening.”

“I wish it weren’t, but it is.”

“So, essentially,” I said, feeling like I was going to throw up the single sip of screwdriver I’d had, “my dad is paying for an indoor ski park—or pool—to be built in Qalif, a country with some of the worst human-rights violations in the world right now.”

“Don’t be stupid, he doesn’t pay that much child support. She’s just one little kid. But he’s paid for some of the front loaders that are being shipped there to build it. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

I sat there in a big puddle of diamonds and tulle. “How come the Royal Genovian Guard didn’t figure this out?”

Lilly shrugged. “They’re not as smart as I am.”

I could not deny this. No one is as smart as Lilly, with the possible exception of her brother, but he isn’t as ruthless as Lilly, which makes Lilly slightly smarter, but only because she always sees the worst in everyone.

“The kid’s physically okay,” she assured me. “At least so far as I can tell. I mean, they’re feeding her and stuff. I Google-searched her home and school, and she lives in a nice place—well, obviously, her aunt’s listed as one of the top interior decorators in the area—and goes to a nice school—”

“But how do we know?” I asked. Lilly’s deep suspicion of everyone is catching, especially to someone who watches a lot of NCIS. “They could be making her sleep in a closet under the stairs!”

“That seems unlikely. The house is a four bedroom on a cul-de-sac. It’s currently on the market, listed for sale at one point four million dollars. I would imagine, with a home like that, if there’s a closet under the stairs, it’s probably where they keep extra paper towels and soda and stuff they bought at the local big box store.”

“I am not okay with this,” I said. “And if my dad were in his right mind, he wouldn’t be okay with it, either!”

“You don’t have to shout,” Lilly grumbled. “But I wouldn’t be okay with it either if it were my kid sister.”

“The problem is, my dad’s been in no condition lately to make decisions.”

“Yeah,” Lilly said. “I saw the mustache. Or should I say, lack thereof. Your dad needs to be kept away from sharp objects and probably everything else right now except YouTube videos about cute puppies.”

That’s when I made a decision. I stood up and started taking off my princess ball gown.

“What are you doing?” Lilly asked.

“We’re going to Cranbrook, New Jersey,” I said. “Help me get out of this thing.”

“Um, okay.” Lilly started helping me out of my wedding dress. “What are we going to do in Cranbrook, New Jersey?”

“We’re going to do what you said—go get my sister.”

“Okay,” Lilly said. “When I said that last night, I might have had a few too many energy drinks, like you’d suggested. Transporting minors over state lines without permission of their legal guardian is a felony.”

“I don’t care,” I said. “I’m a princess.”