“Quiet, you,” I said, before punching her on the arm. “I’m a friendly person. I know how to make friends.”

“Knowing how to do a thing and actually doing the thing are not the same thing,” said Anders. “You’ve never socialized with our competition.”

“I socialize with you,” I protested.

“I was your partner for the whole season. If you hadn’t been willing to socialize with me, you would have spent all your free time sitting in a corner looking sad,” said Anders. “It still took me two weeks to get more than five words out of you when the cameras weren’t on us.”

“You only started socializing with me and Pax after I got dropped on you during a group rehearsal,” said Lyra. “Ours is a friendship born of unstable footing and guilt.”

“Okay, so I’m mostly focused on my dancing,” I allowed. Lyra was wrong about why I’d started being friendly with her: the drop had been an excuse. I’d been trying to get closer to Pax, who was the first Ukupani I’d ever met. Scientific curiosity has always been a powerful motivator where I’m concerned. “That doesn’t mean I’m unfriendly. I can make friends.”

“Malena’s a nice girl,” said Pax. “If Val wants to make friends, I say we let her.”

“It’s just so beautiful,” said Lyra, miming wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Our little Valerie’s learning how to play nicely with the other children.”

“I will kill you all in your sleep,” I said.

Lyra was still laughing when the town car arrived.

The ride to the theater was harder than usual. I had to keep pretending nothing was wrong, even as the feeling of impending doom grew stronger. Soon, we’d find out how Adrian was planning to react to the bodies in his basement. In the meantime, I had to keep people from realizing I’d already known.

Worse yet was the possibility that Adrian wouldn’t say anything; that the bodies wouldn’t have been found, and I would have to decide how to play things from there. Not fun.

The cars let us out behind the theater, at what we all thought of as the stage door. We filed dutifully inside to learn what we’d be doing for the next week—or to find that the whole show had been canceled on account of the vicious murder of two of our own. I saw Malena through the crowd, casting worried glances at me and Pax. For once, I was the person with the least to lose. I was the only one of the three of us who was human, and while intense media scrutiny might result in my having to spend a few years hiding from the Covenant of St. George, I didn’t need to worry that I’d lose control, change forms, and eat a judge.

I found Pax’s hand and squeezed. He didn’t say anything, but he squeezed back.

We arrived on the stage in a mob. Adrian and Lindy were already at the judges’ table. Cameras were set up around the edge of the stage, filming everything.

“Morning, all,” said Adrian. “We have a few announcements before you pull your choreography assignments.”

This was it. They’d found the bodies, and the show was going to continue as a memorial. The other four eliminated contestants were fine. Everyone would know to be much more careful, and we’d dance to honor the dead. Maybe it said something bad about my priorities, but I was relieved to know that we wouldn’t be going home just yet.

“Remember that as of this week, America will be voting on whether or not to mix up your partnerships. If you want to keep your partners, you’ll all need to work on your connection to one another, and on seeming like you actually enjoy what you’re doing. If you feel like a new partner would be a good thing, then by all means keep smiling at the audience when you’re supposed to be having a romantic moment.”

Lindy chose that moment to speak up. “We still have a lot of excellent ballroom dancers here, but we’re already down two. I’d rather not lose one of you every week. So get your shoulders down and ground your feet like you actually remember what your choreographers taught you. Got it?”

“Yes, Lindy,” chorused the remaining ballroom dancers dutifully, me among them. It was no secret that Lindy favored the ballroom dancers—or that she’d come down on us like a ton of bricks if she felt we’d given her a reason.

(I never really had to give her a reason. My friendship with Brenna was enough to label me as a bad girl in her eyes. Lindy was professional enough that she’d never used it as an excuse to throw me under the bus, but during my season I’d been praised less than the other ballroom girls, a trend which was continuing into the present day. Oh, well. It wasn’t like I needed her validation when I had all of America picking up their phones to vote for me.)