“I can’t wait to meet your brother!” Max said, and glanced at Avery. “Did you know he was coming home?”

Avery’s mouth formed the word no, but she wasn’t sure she actually spoke it.

She couldn’t move. She knew she needed to do something, to walk forward with a smile and introduce her adopted brother, who also happened to be her secret ex-boyfriend, to her current boyfriend. But she was planted in place.

The sheer reality of him, of his presence here after all this time away, struck Avery with a blind, blunt force. Her entire world felt upended.

Why hadn’t anyone warned her? Why hadn’t Atlas warned her? Clearly this plan had been in place for a while. Did they want it to be a surprise for her . . . or had she been right last year, when she worried that her father suspected what was really going on between them?

Avery couldn’t quite believe it. After all this time—after she had finally moved on from him—Atlas was back.

LEDA

LEDA PULLED HER feet up onto the cream-colored couch that dominated her parents’ living room. It was scratchy and stiff, not particularly inviting, but still her favorite place in the apartment. Probably because it was right at the center of things.

She was home alone tonight, watching an old holo, letting its familiar dialogue lap pleasantly against her mind. At school earlier, Avery had asked if Leda wanted to come to some campaign event that Avery’s parents were forcing her to attend, but Leda had refused. Max would be there to keep Avery company, and besides, it didn’t sound like fun.

She found herself wondering what Watt was doing tonight, then scolded herself for thinking about him. And yet . . . she had liked spending time with him the other day. Even if that time was spent at a random party in Brooklyn, investigating the death of a girl who’d known their darkest secrets.

They had been flickering back and forth ever since, discussing what to do about Mariel’s diary. They both assumed that it was in the Valconsuelos’ apartment, but couldn’t agree on their next step. Watt wanted to break into the apartment and try to steal it, which Leda insisted was too risky. What if instead they pretended to be friends of Mariel’s, she suggested, and concocted some excuse for needing to search her room?

Every time she tried to bring it up, though, Watt would inevitably pull the conversation off-topic: to ask Leda whether she missed him (no), whether she thought he needed a haircut (still no), what class she was in (stop hacking my school tablet; I’m trying to focus). When he interrupted her SAT tutoring session, Leda demanded in mock frustration that he hunt down the SAT answers to make it up to her.

And deprive you of the joy of knowing that you beat everyone all on your own? Absolutely not, Watt had replied. Leda shook her head, fighting back a smile.

At least she no longer dreaded falling asleep. She was still having the nightmares, but they were shallower, easier to wake herself up from; especially now that she was waking up to a series of waiting flickers from Watt. There was something comforting in the knowledge that he was on her side. For the first time in months, Leda no longer felt alone.

A buzz sounded through the apartment, and Leda’s head shot up. It wasn’t the delivery she’d ordered from Bakehouse; that would have scanned automatically into the kitchen. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and went to answer the door.

Watt was standing on the other side, holding a massive double-handled bag with the Bakehouse logo. “Delivery for Miss Cole?”

She gave a strangled laugh. “Did you just hack my delivery bot?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Watt told her, which they both knew was a lie. “And don’t worry, I’ve hacked far worse.”

Leda realized belatedly that she was wearing her oversized school sweatshirt and artech leggings. “Sorry. I would have dressed up, but I wasn’t expecting company. Then again, I don’t know if you count as company when you show up uninvited.”

“In some cultures, it’s rude to insult people who show up on your doorstep bearing food.”

“Except that you’re acting like a human delivery bot, bringing me food I ordered.”

“You’re calling me a human bot? Rude again.” Watt’s dark eyes were bright with laughter.

“It’s not rude if it’s accurate.” Leda reached for the delivery bag and paused, trying not to make her next words sound like a big deal. “You might as well stay, since you’re already here. I always over-order.”

“I’d love to,” Watt said, in a show of surprise, though Leda knew this was exactly what he’d hoped for.

Watt followed her back into the living room and set the Bakehouse bag on the coffee table, scattering the disposable boxes over its imitation mosaic surface. His eyes flicked to the holo, and he grinned. “You’re watching The Lottery?” he teased. Leda started to turn it off, but Watt threw a hand out in protest. “Oh, come on! At least wait until they win!”

“That’s not until the very end,” she reminded him, a little surprised that he’d even seen this holo. It was something she and her mom used to watch, back when Leda was really young.

“Good thing we have all night,” Watt replied. Leda wondered what he meant by that.

She stretched across the coffee table to reach for a pizza slice, only to frown at it in confusion. “This isn’t my pizza.”