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Authors: Rebecca Chance

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‘Doing what you say they did, ’ Evie continued, ‘sticking a needle into your dad – that’s really cold. And with the nurse right there, or just outside the room
– that’s really ballsy. No offence, but no way did you pull that. She set you up, didn’t she?’

Lola was taking all of this in, Evie could tell. She was pretty as a picture, the perfect princess who belonged high up here in the fairy-tale castle. Well, fairy tales were dark, weren’t
they? The real fairy tales? Evie had been brought up on all that Disney crap – play nice, look pretty, and you’ll get a prince and a kingdom and a dress with a big skirt – but
she’d read some of the real stuff in the library once. Stepsisters with their toes cut off, bleeding into the magic slipper. Crows coming down and pecking out their eyes. The guys who wrote
those stories knew what life was really like.

Evie waited for Lola to think over what she’d just said, smoking her cigarette, watching the crests of the trees in Central Park wave gently in the wind, the crenellations and balconies
and high towers that capped the huge grey buildings along Fifth Avenue, each one a palace. She sure as hell wouldn’t see this view again in a hurry; she might as well make the most of it.

‘That’s not proof, ’ Lola Fitzgerald said eventually. ‘You didn’t see anything that could help me.’

Evie held up her left hand and ticked her points off one by one, bending down her fingers to count them off.

‘One: that bitch killed him, ’ she started. ‘We both know that. Two: she’s managed to frame you for it, and she’s done a good enough job of it to get you arrested.
Three: I’m guessing that the reason she’s gone to all this trouble is that there’s a shitload of money involved, else why would she take the risk of doing this? I mean, why not
just wait it out? Benny’s in a coma, she’s got control of everything, he’s not going anywhere, right? So there must’ve been some major benefit to her in pulling something
like this.’

Evie squinted under the peak of the cap, watching Lola’s reactions intently. Despite Lola’s clear intent not to give anything away, Evie had seen her make a tiny, involuntary nod as
Evie outlined point three.

So Evie had been right. This was all about money.

Emboldened, Evie continued, her voice gaining strength:

‘Four: you gotta fight fire with fire. She’s pulled a dirty trick on you, and you gotta pull one back on her to make sure you don’t go down for this.’

‘There’s a five, isn’t there?’ Lola said, a faint smile on her lips.

‘Sure, ’ Evie said. ‘Can’t have four without a five!’ She thumbed down her little finger. ‘Five: I can help you. Or at least, I got a plan that could help
you. But you gotta do something for me in return.’

The fresh wind, sweeping across from Central Park, brought a hawk with it, drawing lazy circles high in the sky above them, its reddish-orange tail feathers unmistakable in the sunlight, even
the predatory hook of its beak clearly visible for a few moments as it wheeled on the wind. Suddenly, it dived, swooping down close to the building, dislodging a couple of terrified pigeons from
their roost below one of the cornices. They flapped desperately, squawking as they flew towards a nearby tree, and the hawk made a couple of passes at them, sizing them up. For whatever reason, it
decided against them as prey. And in a couple of seconds more, it was gone, disappearing with a few heavy beats of its wings in the direction of Sixth Avenue.

Evie and Lola looked back at each other, the drama of seeing a beautiful wild creature chase its prey alive and vivid in their eyes.

But hey, the drama here on the terrace is just as big,
Evie thought.
If things don’t go well for Lola, she’ll be doing twenty-five to life in fricking Bedford
Hills.

Evie shivered at the thought of Bedford Hills. Though it sounded like a country club, it was the only maximum-security prison for women in New York State, like Attica or Sing Sing for women.
Pretty, fragile Lola Fitzgerald would be eaten alive in Bedford Hills. She’d be a pigeon for every single hawk in there, torn to pieces as soon as she landed.

‘You really need to listen to me, ’ Evie blurted out. ‘Trust me, you can’t go to jail. You won’t survive in there.’

‘What do you want?’ Lola Fitzgerald said finally, and Evie’s heart leaped in excitement.

‘Carin threw me out of my apartment, ’ she said. ‘Benny’d always said he’d put it in my name’ – she ducked her head, not wanting to see the anger in
Lola’s eyes – ‘but I should have known better. He said he’d take care of me in his will, and who the hell knows what happened there? But she stole stuff that he’d
given me. This diamond . . . um,
jewellery
. . .’

No point telling the girl that her dad bought me diamond pasties, for Christ’s sake
, Evie thought.

‘He’d
given
it to me, ’ she said firmly. ‘And she came into my apartment – which wasn’t mine after all, go figure – and chucked me out on my ass,
and stole my diamonds. I want them back. And also’ – she took a breath – ‘I’m not saying you need to set me up for life. But that was supposed to be my apartment, and
I want the deeds to it.’

It seemed like years before Lola finally answered.

‘So what’s your plan?’ Lola asked, lighting another cigarette. ‘You’ve told me I’m in trouble, and you’ve told me what you want. And I’m still
listening. So go ahead – what’s your plan to save me from prison?’

 
Chapter 26

F
or a moment, Evie thought that Lawrence and Autumn were having sex. Her reaction was instant and furious: her hands curled into claws, and she
took two quick steps forward, her arms flexing, about to grab Lawrence and pull him bodily off Autumn. Then, as the red mist before her eyes faded enough for her to take in the situation, Evie saw
that not only were they wearing workout clothes – just tank tops and shorts, but still, clothes – but as far as she could tell, their crucial parts were all covered.

What they were doing was definitely weird, though. Autumn was in Downward Dog, the classic yoga pose where you put your hands and feet on the ground, at enough of a distance so you’re
sticking your ass in the air, pushing it back, flattening your heels, like a dog doing a stretch after waking up. Only Autumn’s hands were wrapped round Lawrence’s ankles, and his hands
were on her ass, pushing it away. The more Evie looked, the more she could see that this wasn’t any sort of sex act, not even a preliminary: their bits were all in the wrong places for them
to be getting it on.

But seeing Lawrence with his hands on Autumn, touching that dumb middle-class girl who thought she was cool and hip with her weird hair colour and her piercings and her sleeve tattoo –
Evie’s blood boiled. Lawrence was an idiot if he thought he could abolish jealousy just by saying that it shouldn’t exist.

Autumn and Lawrence were oblivious to her presence. The front door had been ajar – they mostly left it open when they were in, since there was nothing worth stealing in the place, plus
Lawrence had a touching faith in the goodness of human nature – and there was some rhythmic, Indian-sitar, hippie music playing on the stereo, so they hadn’t heard Evie’s
footsteps.

She could have announced her entrance more discreetly – clearing her throat, maybe, saying something – but she was pissed now at the sight of the two of them with their hands on each
other. So she banged the heavy steel door, and she must have used more force than she realised, because it slammed against the metal frame so loudly that both Lawrence and Autumn jumped and nearly
toppled over.

‘Evie!’ Lawrence exclaimed, turning his head towards the doorway.


Evie?
’ Autumn hissed.

‘I need to talk to you, Lawrence, ’ Evie said, doing her best to ignore Autumn.

‘What’s this about, Evie?’ he said, his voice as gentle as ever.

‘What’s it
matter
what’s it about?’ Autumn said angrily.

Autumn had re-dyed her hair, Evie noticed: it was all jet-black now, and her eyes were heavily lined in black pencil, emphasising the Asian upwards tilt to them, the almond shape. Her tank top
was purple and her cycling shorts, which she’d rolled up to just below her crotch, were black. She looked less boho-radical now, more biker-chick Goth. It was a striking look, but, in
Evie’s possibly biased opinion, it made Autumn even less like a good match for Lawrence, who didn’t wear black because it was negative. Nor did he believe in piercings and tattoos,
because they were a mutilation of the human body.

It was undeniably true that Lawrence could be a bit of a buzz-kill on occasion.

‘She walked out on you, Lawrence!’ Autumn continued, glaring at Evie. ‘You shouldn’t listen to a word she says!’

‘She didn’t walk out on me, Autumn, ’ Lawrence corrected. ‘We chose to take different paths.’

He looked gravely at Evie. Clad only in a white tank top and dark-blue running shorts, his feet bare, Lawrence somehow managed to have the dignity of a man wearing a three-piece Hugo Boss suit
and handmade Lobb shoes.

‘Is it important?’ he asked. ‘Autumn and I were in the middle of practice, as you could see. I’m sure you’d only interrupt us for something that you really thought
was important, wouldn’t you, Evie?’

She nodded.

‘OK, ’ he said. ‘We can talk in my room.’


Lawrence!
’ Autumn protested, stamping the ground in frustration.

‘I’m sorry to break up our practice, Autumn, ’ he said. ‘I’ll try not to take too long.’

As Lawrence turned towards his room, Evie shot Autumn a full-on malicious smile, bright and dazzling. Let her sweat it out, wondering what Evie wanted to talk to Lawrence about so urgently . .
.

‘Where are you going?’ Autumn wailed, twenty minutes later, as Lawrence emerged from his room, hopping as he pulled on a pair of track pants. ‘You said you
wouldn’t take long!’

‘I have to go out for a while, ’ Lawrence said apologetically.

‘With
her?

Autumn pointed accusingly at Evie, who noticed smugly that Autumn’s fingers were stubby, her nails bitten down to the quick: she had tried to disguise the latter fact with deep purple nail
polish, but the eagle eyes of a born-and-bred New Yorker like Evie swiftly picked out the flaw in Autumn’s appearance.

‘Autumn, ’ Lawrence said reprovingly, ‘remember how damaging jealousy can be. I know you’re feeling hurt, but you have no need to get this angry. We can’t control
other people, only ourselves—’

‘For fuck’s sake, Lawrence, enough with the Zen Master bull-crap!’ Autumn yelled. ‘Stop fucking telling me how to feel!’

Evie couldn’t completely repress her smile. For a moment, she was in complete sync with Autumn – Lawrence’s nuggets of Eastern philosophy could be incredibly annoying.
Autumn’s eyes met Evie’s and the two women reluctantly shared a look of absolute agreement before Autumn narrowed her gaze, glaring at Evie.

‘You’d better not be trying to get back with him!’ she warned.

‘Autumn . . .’ Lawrence said rather helplessly, stooping to grab his sandals.

‘Yes, Autumn, that sounds very
possessive
, ’ Evie said tauntingly. ‘Better watch that, eh? Possessiveness is the enemy of the balanced soul—’

‘You
bitch
!’ Autumn made a lunge at Evie, her tattooed arm reaching out to grab in Evie’s direction.

Ewww
. Evie pulled a face.
She doesn’t shave her armpits.
She easily ducked back from Autumn and her hairy pits, dancing around the door and out into the hallway.

‘I’ll wait for you on the landing, Lawrence, ’ she called blithely.

Yay!
So far, Evie’s day was going really well. Lola had heard her out, Lawrence was agreeing to the next step at least, and Autumn was royally pissed off.
Nice, Evie! Good
going!

Lawrence bounded downstairs, light as a cat, and followed Evie into the shared kitchen of her apartment.

‘You brought her
here?
’ he couldn’t help saying.

‘It’s her first time in the scary suburbs, ’ Evie said, unable to repress a smile. ‘Every time we stopped at a light, she freaked. She kept thinking someone was going to
smash a window and pull off her earrings, or something. ’Bout time Little Miss Princess saw how the other half lives, ’ Evie added unapologetically.

‘You should’ve come here on the subway if you wanted to give her the full Bushwick scenic tour.’

Evie snorted.

‘Are you kidding? We got her super-upmarket car service here, and the only reason it isn’t waiting outside is that the driver freaked about hanging out in this neighbourhood.
Lawrence, you’ve got no idea how these people live. I’ll bet you she’s never been on the subway in her life. Seriously.’

Lola was sitting on Evie’s futon, looking as if she was scared to move a muscle. The expensive, Upper East Side elegance of Lola’s appearance – the cashmere sweater, the simple
designer jeans, the golden highlighted hair, the watch whose face glittered with diamonds – was such a contrast to her surroundings that Lawrence blinked in surprise, and Evie was embarrassed
by the shithole where she lived all over again.

‘You must be Lawrence. Thanks so much for coming to meet me, ’ Lola said, standing up and holding out her hand for him to shake.

Nice manners,
Evie thought sourly.

‘I’m sorry for your loss, ’ Lawrence said to Lola. ‘And the arrest and everything . . .’ Lawrence looked grave. ‘I can’t imagine what you’re going
through right now.’

Lola looked up at Lawrence, her face very serious.

‘Will you help me?’ she asked, her voice soft and halting. ‘This idea of Evie’s . . . it’s fairly extreme, but it’s the only one we’ve got. Will you
help us do it?’

Right, like any man could possibly refuse her when she asks them like that,
Evie thought.
Those big brown eyes, the helpless air – I wonder if she knows what effect she has on
men. Maybe she just takes it for granted. Jeez, there’s something about these rich girls. This one doesn’t act entitled – it’s worse than that. She acts like she’s
already sure everyone will
want
to help her, ’cause she’s so used to getting her way it doesn’t occur to her that anyone might say no. And that ‘Daddy’s little
girl’ act she’s doing – she doesn’t even realise she’s pulling it. I bet it worked on her daddy when she was just a baby, and she’s been doing it ever
since.

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