Avery smiles down at the woman stuck to the wall. Jessica thrashes back and forth, but every movement makes her wince with pain. Her hair, clothes, and some of her skin are all stuck to the industrial-strength glue. She gnashed her teeth and snarls like a feral animal.

"What's that?" Avery asks.

"I said you're going to pay," Jessica hisses. "You're going to suffer for everything you've put me through."

Avery laughs and says, "I think I'd be a bit more worried if you weren't stuck to a wall."

"Get me off here," Jessica says.

"I'd like to, but you just threatened me," Avery says. "Maybe you need some time to calm down first."

"You bitch," Jessica screams.

Avery sighs and walks to the bathroom. She grabs a clean hand towel and carries it back to the bedroom. Standing in front of Jessica, she was the towel into a ball and shoved it into Jessica's open mouth.

"I'm tired, and your screaming is going to keep me awake," she says. "And by the way, if I were you, I'd stop struggling so hard—you're only getting more of your hair stuck to the glue."

Jessica's eyes widen, and she makes a muffled shriek. Avery walks back to the bed, pulls the quilt up to her chin and turns the lamp off. She tosses around a few times, trying to get comfortable, but Jessica is still groaning and screaming.

"Listen, Jessica, if you keep making noise, I'm going to get some tape," she says. "And trust me, that'll be awful for your skin. Your hair is already ruined—do you want to have a breakout too?"

Jessica goes quiet, and Avery closes her eyes. She stretches out in the bed and rubs her stomach, trying to relax. Before she realizes it, she falls into a deep sleep. She wakes as the early morning light pours through the window.

A strange, moaning sound comes from across the room. She rolls over and snuggles deeper under the blanket, but the moaning gets louder. She opens one eye and sees Jessica glaring at her from the wall. It looks like she struggled throughout the night: her clothing is twisted and torn, and her ghostly makeup is running all over her face.

Avery groans and closes her eyes. She doesn't want to deal with Jessica or Andrew or anyone else—she just wants to sleep a few minutes more. When she opens her eyes again, Andrew is standing over her in his silk bathrobe.

"What happened here?" he asks.

Avery blinks, rubs her eyes, and says, "Ask your sister."

"Jessica, what the hell are you doing stuck to the wall?" he asks. "And why are you dressed like a ghost?"

He strides across the room and pulls the towel from her mouth. She coughs hard and shoots an accusing glare at Avery.

"She did this to me," she says. "She acts so nice and innocent, but she's a monster."

Andrew reaches up and scrapes some glue from the wall with his fingernail. He tests it between his fingers—almost gluing them together—and frowns. He touches the top of Jessica's head and gently tries to pull her from the wall.

"It's no use," he says. He raises his voice and calls to a servant, "Get me a pair of scissors."

"What? Why do you need scissors?" Jessica squeals.

"To cut you off this wall, of course," he says.

Jessica's face pales under the blotchy makeup, and she shouts, "No—You can't cut my hair! There has to be another way."

"Sure, there's another way," Andrew says. "You can stay stuck to this wall for the rest of your life."

"No, there has to be some sort of oil or something we can use," Jessica moans. "I can't lose all my hair. And what about my skin?"

Andrew shrugs and says, "So tell me, sister, how did you end up stuck to this wall in the first place?"

"I—I," Jessica stammers.

"Jessica thought she'd play a nasty joke on me," Avery interrupts. "But I was prepared. She's the butt of her own joke now."

"I'm starting to understand why you wanted all that glue," Andrew says.

A team of servants comes rushing in. One holds a pair of scissors and the others trail behind her, poking and elbowing each other at the sight of Jessica glued to the wall. Jessica scowls at the servants, keeping her eyes fixed on the shining silver scissors.

"Get her off the wall and lock her in the attic," Andrew says, turning his back on his sister. "If you need to use oil to get her skin unstuck, go for it. But don't waste time on her hair or clothes. I want her out of my sight as quickly as possible."

"Andrew," Jessica wails. "How could you?"

The servants swarm around Jessica, ripping at her clothes and cutting at her hair. They get her free in a few minutes, but the back of her gown and all of her long red hair stay stuck to the wall. Her short hair is patchy and uneven, and there are several bald spots on her head. As the servants lead her out, she curses and screams at the top of her lungs.

"Honey, how did you know to prepare the glue?" Andrew asks, sitting on the edge of the bed,

"People are always trying to play tricks on me," Avery says. "It didn't take me long to figure out that the ghost I saw in the garage was Jessica. It seemed likely she'd try to scare me again. Anyway, can you stop calling me, honey? We're not even married, and there's no one around, so you don't need to show off."

"Hmm," Andrew says. "Are you embarrassed by my affection?"

"Yes," she says.

Another servant comes in, carrying a silver tray with short metal legs. The servant places the tray over Avery's lap. Avery looks into the young woman's face. There are laugh lines around her eyes, and her mouth is curled up in a smirk—clearly, news about Jessica has traveled fast.

Avery looks down at her breakfast. She smears butter and marmalade on the toast and stirs sugar and milk into her tea. She sips her tea and tries to ignore Andrew, but he won't stop staring at her as she eats.

Her phone starts to ring, and she's grateful for the distraction. She wipes her fingers on the linen napkin and reaches for the phone on the nightstand. Sophie's name is on the screen. She swallows hard and answers the call.

"Hi, Sophie," she says.

"Avery, have you had breakfast yet?" Sophie asks.

"Yes," Avery says.

"Good, I didn't want to disturb you," Sophie says. "I actually wanted to call you last night, but I thought you might need some time to yourself."

"That's very considerate, but I'm fine," Avery says. "It was embarrassing, but I'm not too upset. It's all in the past now, and you know that."

"I do, but I'm not sure Rebecca does," Sophie says. "The poor girl is a mess."

"Oh?" Avery asks. "What happened to her? She seemed fine when I saw her."

"Well, she was up all night crying," Sophie says. "She blames herself for everything, somehow. She kept saying it was all her fault for asking you to design the cufflinks."

Avery rubs her temples with her free hand. It makes sense that Rebecca is upset, but she seems to be upset for the wrong reasons. If I were her, I'd be angry with both Evan for hiding our past from her and me, Avery thinks. I don't understand why she's worried about me.

"Have you talked to Evan?" Avery asks. "Perhaps, he could comfort her."

Sophie ignores the question and says, "You know, my best friend entrusted her to my care, and I'm starting to get worried. She hasn't stopped crying, and she refuses to eat anything."

"That sounds bad," Avery says, wondering why Sophie is telling her this.

"Trust me, and it is," Sophie says. "Do you think you could visit her and talk to her? Maybe persuade her to eat again."

Avery sighs.

"I know I'm asking for a lot, but she really looks up to you," Sophie says. "Besides, you're about the same age—sometimes, I feel a bit too old for these youthful problems."

"Is she at home?" Avery asks.

"No, she's staying with me at my hotel," Sophie says. "Actually, I just changed hotels a few days ago. I'm at the Zuri Hotel now."

"Okay, I'll come to see her," Avery says.

"Thanks so much, dear," Sophie says. "I knew I could count on you."

Avery ends the call and takes a long sip of tea. She can't believe her luck—Sophie and Rebecca are staying at the Zuri Hotel. Besides the Howel mansion, the Zuri Hotel is one of the worst places she could go.

"Problems with Rebecca?" Andrew asks.

"Yeah," Avery says. "Actually, I'm going to see her today. Do you want to come with me?"

She's certain he'll say yes—he's always looking for opportunities to flaunt their relationship. Going with her to the Zuri Hotel would be a great way to rub it in Evan's face. To her surprise, Andrew shakes his head.

"You don't want to come?" she asks.

"No," he says. "I don't think it's appropriate for me to go there."

"And since when have you cared about what's appropriate?" she asks.

Andrew stabs a fork through a strawberry, his face hard and cold.