In the center of it all is the fountain. It’s never worked the entire time I’ve been here. The statue at the top has been broken since I got here, and it’s gotten smashed even worse since then. The trough collects dry leaves and dirt.

Now it’s covered by yards and yards of black silk.

“Thank you all for coming,” I tell everyone. “The Grand has been my dream, my home. It’s been my deepest desire, and I’m thrilled tonight to share it with you all.”

The eyes of the crowd shine with lust. The men want my body. Some of the women want it too. They’re covetous and cruel and absolutely beautiful.

“Without further delay, please let me present to you all an incredible artist and lovely young woman.”

Clara stands up, looking nervous and brave. She gives a speech about this commission—her first major piece to be in public. Her sister, Honor, is in the audience. Her dark eyes shine with pride as she watches her younger sister speak. Honor is wearing a black sheath and simple gold string necklace. She looks sophisticated and demure. No one would guess from looking at her that she had the most flawless pole technique I’ve ever seen.

Lola is beside her, with Blue’s arms wrapped around her waist. He doesn’t leave her side when he can help it, and especially not here, when Sarah Elizabeth’s brother, Alex, has never been caught. He hasn’t struck again either, so we’re hoping he gave up his horrible crusade and went somewhere far away—away from Harmony Hills and away from us.

When Clara is finished speaking, she nods to the men on either side of the fountain. They’re bouncers. High class bouncers, and they fill out their tuxes so nicely. They reach down and pull the black silk away, unveiling the new statue atop the fountain.

An angel stands on top of the fountain. Her wings are spread wide, strong and capable of carrying her anywhere. One wing is slightly crooked, like a bird who’s injured her wing. But she still stands tall, chin held high. Her hair falls in loose waves, the kind of texture you get after being out at sea, salt and water spray leaving its mark. And her eyes—the angels eyes are what you remember most. They’re strong and fierce, so determined. This isn’t an angel to pray or bless you. This is a warrior, one who knows the evils of the world and fight them every day.

The crowd gasps, torn between genuine appreciation and their jaded addiction to criticism. They applaud Clara and demand, simply demand, that she create custom pieces for them all. She’ll be very busy, assuming she wants to create ego centerpieces for cunning rich people.

Ivan squeezes my hand. “It’s lovely.”

I give him a wink. “Wait until you see the show.”

Those lovely gray eyes widen. I don’t dance very often, not onstage, focusing instead on the choreography, the staging, and the front of the house. Not to mention the number crunching on the backend. It keeps me busy, but I wanted to be part of this night, of this show. I wanted this to be a true transition from what the Grand had been to what it has become. That means never forgetting where it came from, just like I can never forget. There are scars on the Grand, in the walls themselves. Just like there are scars on Ivan’s body. They tell a story about where it’s been—and about where it’s going.

*     *     *

It’s a rush out onstage again, the lights, the feeling of flying. I dance with the other girls in formation through our opening act and then wait backstage for a few of the sets.

Then it’s my turn.

My dance is a blend of stripper moves and burlesque, both crude and sultry, both fierce and whimsical. It’s an ode to the past, this song. And hope for the future. When I’m done, I’m breathless, weightless.

I’m almost euphoric as I head down the familiar hallway and into the dressing room. It had to be expanded to accommodate the full company of dancers. They’re bustling about, getting ready for the show. Some of them give me a hug and kiss, congratulating me on my performance, but I’m careful not to smudge their makeup.

Then I see Honor at my vanity, with Lola at her side. Blue is there, looking severe.

My heart drops. All I can think about is Alex. Did he do something else? Leave more blood? Hurt someone?

“What’s wrong?” I manage to ask over the knot in my throat.

“It’s Clara,” Honor says. “She was supposed to sit with us, but when we all took our seats, she wasn’t there. She isn’t anywhere.”

Oh God. There’s a steel band around my chest, and I can’t breathe. If anything happened to Clara, I don’t know what I would do. She’s too sweet for this place. Too innocent. Why did I ever ask her to make a sculpture for us?

“She probably just got a ride with some friends,” Lola says, but her big brown eyes are filled with worry. We all know that Clara is careful, thoughtful. She would have at least told her sister she was leaving.

Kip appears, looking out of breath. “We searched the perimeter of the Grand, but we’re going to go wider.”

In other words, he hasn’t found her.

I squeeze Honor’s hand. “I’m sure she’ll turn up just fine, and then you’ll be able to ground her for life.”

Honor gives me a wan smile. “She’s eighteen now. I can’t ground her at all.”

A grown woman. She’s seen so much, but it never changed her. It never hardened her. Which means she doesn’t have any defenses against the dark side of Tanglewood. Definitely none against Alex and the perverted teachings of Harmony Hills. Now I understand Ivan’s murderous rage. If he hurt one silky blonde hair on her head…

My phone lights up on my vanity, and suspicion makes my eyes narrow. I manage to keep a blank expression as I grab it from the small table and move aside. They’ll think I’m only checking my messages or maybe calling her. Presumably they’ve tried and gone to voicemail.

Sure enough, there’s a text. Sorry, it says.

Where are you?? Honor is freaking out.

Don’t tell her I talked to you. Pls.

Umm… why? She’s going to have a heart attack.

You owe me.

Crap, she’s right. I do owe her after she helped me out that night. I hate having to keep Honor in the dark though. I hate being in the dark, because I don’t know what’s happening either. At least, wherever she is, she has her phone and the presence of mind to text me.

I type again. Are you safe?

For now.

I think I’m going to strangle that girl. Only after Honor has a go of it, of course. But maybe every girl needs a little rebellion. She might need it more than most, the way Honor has protected her—overprotected her. After their rough beginning, it’s understandable that her older sister wanted to hold her tightly. Maybe a little too tight.

At least she isn’t taking a gray bus out of town, never to be heard from again. Well, I’m pretty sure she’s not doing that.

Stay that way or I’ll hurt you, I type before shutting off the screen.

My mind is racing, trying to think of how I can keep Honor calm without actually telling her anything. Okay, that is pretty impossible.

Ivan appears in the door, where I’ve seen him so many times. He doesn’t come inside, just gestures for me to come out. I can tell by his dire expression that he’s heard Clara is missing. In the hallway, I burrow myself into his side, needing to feel his solidity, his strength.

“Do you know where she is?” he asks, so softly I barely can hear him.

I shake my head without looking at him. “But she said she’s okay.”

He gives a faint nod. “That’s enough for now.”

Enough for now. Yes. I can trust her that much. God knows, she trusted me much more than that. I have to hope she knows what she’s doing, because I love her like a sister.

I love Honor like a sister. Lola too. I have an entire family here, built with every swing of the pole, every rough customer thrown out. For so long after I left Harmony Hills, I felt the loneliness like physical pain. But these girls are my family.