Chapter 39

When I walk out of my apartment the next morning, fretting because we only have three days to prepare our defense, Zelda stands near the tree looking up at Sprite.

“I came to pick you up, and Sprite zipped by me.”

“She’s showing off. Because she likes you so much.”

I show off, too—and for the same reason—by climbing to retrieve Sprite.

Once I deliver Sprite safely back to Crazy Cat Lady Cathy, Zelda and I head off to TropeTown Heights for our un-therapy.

“So,” I say. “That rumor. Do you think . . .”

“Shhhh,” Zelda warns sharply. And her expression says the rest.

We continue the rest of the way in silence, Zelda kicking at a stone. I want to assure her everything will be fine, but I don’t want to be liar, so I keep my mouth shut.

The guard lets us in without incident. He checks our names off the list and waves us through.

We round the corner of Nebraska’s house and climb the steps to the veranda, side by side. We must see Bridget at the same time, because Zelda stumbles and catches herself on my arm so she doesn’t trip. She digs her fingernails in, and I know she’s as terrified as I am, though she’s trying not to show it.

Bridget stares at us with an accusatory expression. “Your stragglers have finally arrived, Angela. And now I can state my business.”

Holy crap. She knows.

Angela smiles through chattering teeth. “Okay, Bridget. Why don’t you have some pie! I baked it myself. Boysenberry.”

“No, thank you,” Bridget says.

“Don’t mind if I do!” Nebraska gets up to serve herself a piece of pie, and Bridget waits patiently for her to finish.

Meanwhile, Zelda and I sit down. George whispers something to Mandy, and Mandy nods, folding her hands in her lap and looking resigned to her fate. The other girls probably think Bridget’s visit has to do with our accident at the glass factory, and not with Zelda’s and my rule breaking.

Maybe it’s neither.

Maybe it’s both.

But Bridget has already threatened our very existence in TropeTown. How much worse can it get?

Bridget clears her throat. “As you all know, our community functions because we follow the rules. And when someone doesn’t follow the rules, it puts our peace in jeopardy. We can’t condone this type of behavior.”

My whole body blares an alert. My muscles tense and I can’t get enough air in my lungs. Why did we have to go Off-Page? Now they will terminate us immediately, and we’ll never know the truth. Zelda’s nails find the tender skin of my arm again.

Bridget pulls a plastic evidence bag out of the pocket of her suit jacket. A charred black mess rests inside the bag.

“Our forensics team determined the fire in the Healing Center started with this item. Does anyone recognize it?”

As Bridget waves the bag in our faces, my rapid breathing slows down a notch. Bridget didn’t come for Zelda and me.

But George gasps. “That’s my friendship bracelet.”

Angela clamps her hand over her mouth so hard, we can hear the smack.

Bridget stalks over to George’s chair. “So, Georgina . . . you confess?”

“No . . . I . . . lost it,” George stammers.

Bridget clicks her tongue. “Witnesses have come forward with statements placing you outside the Healing Center very early on the morning of the fire.”

George whips around to face Nebraska. “Nebraska and I met up for a chat. Go on, tell them!”

Nebraska’s eyes widen in innocence. “Why would I meet you somewhere voluntarily? Everyone knows we avoid each other at all costs.”

When she puts it that way, George’s story does seem unlikely.

“We used to be friends,” George fires back. “Before I told you I was being considered for a promotion. And now you’ve set me up. All because you couldn’t stand someone else sharing your Legacy limelight.”

This, however, seems incredibly likely.

Sky shakes her head like she’s been betrayed. “Why did you never tell me about this, George?”

George opens her mouth to speak, but Angela interrupts. “Stop this right now,” she commands, her voice trembling slightly. “Your Trope is in enough trouble, without you bringing unsubstantiated accusations against your sole Legacy member.”

The sparkle fades from George’s eyes, which tells me she catches Angela’s warning as well as I do. If George takes down Nebraska with her, she leaves us without a Legacy member to speak for us. The Council won’t listen to the rest of us on our own, and we won’t get a chance to prove ourselves.

“I’m so sorry,” she says finally, hanging her head.

Bridget takes this as a confession. “Come with me.”

“But where are you taking her?” Sky demands.

“To the Villain Zone.”