“Because I know best,” Leda declared, as if it were self-evident.

“Because you enjoy playing puppeteer with other people’s lives.”

“Oh, please. Like you don’t.”

“Just because I could spend all my time spying on other people doesn’t mean that I choose to do it. I usually end up offloading my surveillance on Nadia. You’d be surprised how boring it can be.”

“Except for spying on me, of course,” Leda quipped.

“Right, of course.” Watt stifled a grin.

Nadia prompted him toward a garden on the far side of the terrace. It looked nice, so Watt took Leda’s hand and led her there, down a pathway lined with trees and enormous flowering blossoms.

Bring up Eris, Nadia urged him. Now is the right time.

Not right now, Nadia. Okay?

This is your chance, Nadia insisted. Don’t you want to be free of Leda?

Leda gave him a squeeze, her hand still clasped firmly in his, and Watt was no longer sure of anything.

He glanced at Leda, taking in her elegant profile, the impulsive way she moved in her flowing white dress, everything about her—her eyes, her hands, her mouth—softened in the dimness. He thought of all the different sides of Leda he’d come to know. Her ruthless, fierce determination; her aching vulnerabilities; her nightmares; her incredible brilliance. The one thing Leda Cole wasn’t, he thought, was uncertain.

“You really do think you always know best, don’t you?” he mused.

“I know I do,” she countered.

“Well, then. If you know best, what should I be doing differently?” He’d framed the question as a joke, but suddenly, he was curious to know.

“Where do I begin? For starters, you could get rid of that terrible Nerd Nation T-shirt you always wear.”

“I won that T-shirt in a science fair—” Watt began, but Leda was talking over him, ignoring the protest—

“You could pay a little more attention to your family.” A new seriousness settled over her small, passionate face. “They really care about you, Watt. I can tell. And unlike mine, they would never lie to you.”

That last comment made him inexplicably sad, but before he could press on it, Leda had shaken it off. Watt decided to let the moment pass.

“As for right now, you could start by kissing me,” she concluded.

There was no disobeying a direct order.

Finally, they pulled away and turned deeper into the garden. Everything was silent. It felt to Watt like they were the only two people in the world. Leda seemed content not to say anything, just to tip her face up to the sky and breathe slowly.

“I lied,” she said suddenly, and her voice was very small. Watt looked at her in confusion. “I don’t always know best. Especially for myself. There are so many things I should have done differently.”

“Leda, we’ve all made mistakes,” Watt began.

She retreated a step, shaking her head. Watt realized that his hand felt cold without hers in it. He was shocked to see small tears gathering thickly in her lashes, sliding down her cheeks.

“You saw what I did, Watt. You know my mistakes are worst of all. I just wish …”

Here it is, Nadia said eagerly, as Watt pulled Leda close, folding her into his arms. He felt oddly nervous, and at the same time relieved that Leda was finally talking about that night, after all this time.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, running his hand lightly over her back. “It’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

“I didn’t mean to. You know that,” Leda said, so quietly that he couldn’t be sure what he’d heard. His heart skipped a beat.

Make her clarify, Nadia urged. This isn’t enough for evidence. Make her say the whole sentence.

“You didn’t mean to what?” Watt asked, hating himself, and yet saying it anyway, because the words were written right there, prompted by Nadia, and he was too shocked right now to formulate any words of his own.

Leda looked up at him, her eyes wide and trusting, brimming with tears. “Eris,” she said simply. “You know I didn’t mean to push her off. I just wanted her to back away—she kept trying to hug me, and after everything she did to me—I just wanted her to leave me alone.” Her hand clutched his so tight he felt like the blood was being cut off. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean for her to fall. I never, ever meant that.”

Got it, Nadia declared, in evident satisfaction.

But Watt’s human mind was snagging on Leda’s words. “What do you mean, after everything she did to you?”

“You didn’t know?” Leda asked. Watt shook his head dumbly. “I thought you knew everything.” This time her words were completely devoid of sarcasm.

“I never really paid much attention to Eris,” he said, which was true. Avery had always been the one he’d focused on.

Leda nodded, as if that made sense to her. “Eris was having an affair with my dad, before she died.”

“What?” Nadia, how did we miss that?

Watt felt a sickening sensation of being trapped in something much bigger than he was. He’d fallen too deep, and now he was at the bottom of a bottomless black hole, and he couldn’t come up for air.

Most of all, he felt an overwhelming sense of self-loathing. He’d tricked Leda into opening up her most private, vulnerable self to him—all so he could destroy her.

Leda reached for his hand, taking a shuddering breath. “I don’t know why I brought this up. Let’s go back to the party.”

“I’m sorry, I just—” Watt snatched his hand away, ignoring Leda’s startled look. Don’t send that footage anywhere, Nadia. Don’t you do a damn thing regarding Leda without my approval, okay?

“Watt? What’s wrong?” Leda frowned, sounding puzzled, even worried for him. It killed him, that she was thinking about him at all after what he’d just done to her.

He took a step back, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t think, not with Leda so close, looking at him in that wide-eyed, wounded way. He felt dazed and shaky.

What had happened to him? When had he become the type of person who tried to trick other people into revealing their darkest secrets?

“I can’t right now. I need to … I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and ran off, steeling himself to the hurt that flashed across Leda’s face.

LEDA

LEDA STOOD THERE in shock as Watt’s figure retreated into the cresting night.

What the hell had just happened? She’d offered him her deepest and most dangerous truths—told him all the ugliness in her family, in herself—and he’d turned and run away.

She sank onto a suspended bench, propelling it with her heels to rock slowly back and forth. She was far from the party now, in some sort of multilevel botanic garden. Around a corner she heard the hushed voices of couples walking along the shadowed paths, stealing furtive kisses. Colored lanterns bobbed along in their wakes. She felt very distant from them.

Did Watt leave because of what she’d done to Eris? But he’d known that already—that was the nice thing about being with Watt, she’d thought, that they understood each other for who they were, and all their secrets.

Maybe Watt hadn’t fully appreciated it until now. Maybe when she bared her soul and he realized all the darkness that lay coiled there, he had realized he wanted no part of it.

Leda bit her lip, replaying the conversation in her mind, trying to determine what she’d done wrong. She felt strangely on edge. What was it about Watt that kept nagging at her? Hadn’t there been something odd in his expression, his eyes …?

He hadn’t blinked. The realization came to her all at once, with an animalistic certainty. He’d been watching her the entire time without blinking, as if he’d been a cat patiently waiting for a mouse.

Had Watt been filming their conversation? she thought wildly.

Surely not, Leda’s rational brain hastened to remind her—she would have noticed, would have heard Watt say “record video”; that was how contacts worked, after all. She closed her eyes, slightly comforted.

Except that Nadia was in his brain.

It had been so easy for Leda to forget Nadia’s presence, to get caught up in the excitement of being at the party with Watt—but of course Nadia had been there the whole time, listening and recording and transmitting and god knows what else. Leda had no idea what Watt was even capable of, with Nadia inside his mind.