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Happy?”

Chandra tilted her head, and Dorothy didn’t miss the look of grudging approval that crossed her face.

“So,” Chandra said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why are you here?”

“I just want to talk to you.” Dorothy kept her hands raised as she stepped forward and lowered herself into a chair. Chandra frowned at her, lips pursed. After a moment she sighed and sunk into the chair beside her, arms crossing over her chest.

“Okay, then,” she muttered. “What do you want to talk about?”

Dorothy thought of the look that had crossed Chandra’s face when they’d all been talking the night before, that slight frown, like she knew something but wasn’t sure whether she should say it out loud. That was why she’d come back here. She needed to know what that look meant.

“Last night,” she said carefully, “when we were all talking, it looked like you wanted to say something, but Zora—”

“Zora’s not your biggest fan right now,” Chandra cut in, glaring. “And I don’t blame her.” She shoved her glasses up her nose. “Ash’s . . . disappearance has us all really freaked out, but Zora’s taking it particularly hard.”

“So am I,” Dorothy murmured.

Chandra’s eyes grew wet. She blinked a few times, looking away. “Yeah, me too, but Zora . . . she’s obsessed. She won’t rest until she figures out where he is.” Her eyes cut back to Dorothy’s face. “And who put him there.”

“We should be on the same side,” Dorothy said, leaning forward in her seat. “I know that you all blame me, but I want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do.”

Chandra bit her lip. For a moment, it looked like she was having some sort of internal debate with herself. And then, heaving a sigh, she stood and hurried out of the room.

Alone now, Dorothy frowned. Was their conversation over? Did Chandra expect her to leave? To follow her?

Chandra appeared a moment later, carrying a cloudy pitcher and two jelly jars.

“Tea,” she explained, seeing the confusion on Dorothy’s face. She placed the pitcher and the jars on a bookshelf next to Dorothy’s chair. “Willis has a ton of the stuff, so I iced it. I’m not a big fan of hot beverages.”

She poured them both a glass. “I just figured that, if Willis were here, he’d offer you a drink,” she mumbled, pushing the tea toward Dorothy.

Dorothy lifted an eyebrow. “He would?”

“Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t like you very much, either, but the dude has manners, and you are, technically, a guest.” Chandra finished pouring and set the pitcher down on the table, slopping a little tea over the side. “So. You said you wanted to talk?”

Dorothy felt a rush of gratitude. She pulled the tea toward her and wrapped both hands around the cool glass. “Thank you—”

“If I find out that you hurt him, I’ll kill you myself,” Chandra said, her voice almost pleasant. She lifted her cup of tea to her lips and took a small sip. “I might not be very strong, and I might not be a good fighter, but I know poisons that can kill in seconds. You’ll have to watch what you eat and drink for the rest of your life.”

Dorothy had been about to take a sip of her own tea, but now she thought better of it. She placed the glass back down on the table, clearing her throat anxiously.

“I didn’t kill him, I swear,” she said. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply. “I don’t know what really happened that night, but—”

“He’s known for weeks that you were the one who was going to kill him, and he didn’t even care,” Chandra said, her voice bitter. “He loved you that much. Did you know that?”

Dorothy felt the tears gathering behind her eyes, and she blinked, fast, so that they wouldn’t fall.

“No,” she said, after a long moment. “I didn’t know that.”

Chandra released a great sigh and stared down into her tea, no longer seeming interested in drinking it. “I thought this last week of secret meetings meant he was trying to figure out a plan, some way to stop it from happening, but—”

“Secret meetings?” Dorothy said, interrupting her. “What are you talking about?”

Chandra’s eyes went wide. She took a quick drink of tea, her cheeks coloring. “It was nothing. Never mind.”

Dorothy leaned forward in her chair, suddenly alert. “Ash and I have been meeting in private?”

“Well, sort of, but I . . . I really wasn’t supposed to tell you about that.” Chandra anxiously turned her glass between two fingers, tea sloshing up against the sides. “You see, Zora thinks—”

“I don’t care what Zora thinks; Zora isn’t here.” Dorothy reached out, grasping Chandra’s arm. “Chandra, you have to tell me. When were we meeting?”

Chandra stared at her for a moment and then, with a sigh, she said, “It’s just been a few times over the last week, since the ball.” She lifted a hand to her mouth and started gnawing on her thumbnail. “Ash would sneak out to meet you when he thought the rest of us weren’t paying attention.”

“No,” Dorothy said, frowning. “That . . . that can’t be right. I saw Ash the night of the ball and once, briefly, at a bar downtown but, otherwise . . .”

Even as the words were leaving her mouth, she remembered a strange conversation she’d had with Eliza on the night that the Black Cirkus revolted. Eliza said that she’d seen Dorothy and Ash, together, outside the Dead Rabbit. Dorothy hadn’t thought much of it. Eliza had clearly been trying to frame her, to get the rest of the Black Cirkus to turn on her more quickly.

But, now that she thought about it, why would Eliza bother? Mac had already been well on his way to bribing the Cirkus over to his side. What more could Eliza have gained by making up stories?

“How many times?” Dorothy asked, when she could speak again.

“You’ve met three times, I think,” Chandra said. “Once, after the ball, and then again at that super-shady bar near the Fairmont, and then, you know,

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