"Find me if you can," she says, and runs off.

Part of her hem catches on a tree branch but she tears free. I grab the scrap of fabric, tuck it into my bodice, and chase her through misty woods to an ancient ruin of a temple, its floor scattered with the petals of lilies. I'm afraid I've lost her, but she beckons to me from the path. Through the mist I chase her, till we're in the musty halls of Spence, up and around the endless stairs, down the hallway on the third floor where five class pictures hang in a row. Follow her laugh up the final flight of stairs till I'm standing, alone, at the top, in front of the closed doors to the East Wing. The air is whispering a lullaby to me Come to us, come to us, come to us . Push open the door with the palm of my hand. It's no longer a scorched ruin. The room is alive with light, golden walls and gleaming floors. My mother is gone. Instead, I see the little girl huddled over her doll. Her eyes are large and unblinking. "They promised me my dolly."

I want to say Sorry, I don't understand , but the walls melt away. We're in a land of barren trees, snow, and ice, of harsh winter. Darkness moves on the horizon. A man's face looms. I know him. Amar, Kartik's brother. He's cold and lost, running from something I can't see. And then the dark speaks to me.

"So close"

I come to with a snap and for a moment, with the sun glinting off the water in sharp peaks, I'm not sure where I am. I do know that my heart is hammering away in my chest. The dream seems more real than the water licking at my fingers. And my mother. She was close enough to hold me. Why did she run? Where was she taking me?

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of low, girlish laughter coming from behind the boathouse. I'm not alone. The laugh comes again and I recognize it as Felicity's. Everything collides in me. Longing for my mother, who slips away from me even in dreams. The layers of mystery in Mary's diary. The shiny-slick hatred I feel for Felicity and Pippa, and all those who flit through life without a care. They've picked the wrong day, the wrong girl for cruel pranks. I'll show them cruel. I could snap their slender necks like twigs.

Careful I'm a monster. Better run for safety. Fly away on your little deer hooves.

I'm out of the rowboat quiet as feathers falling on snow, creeping around the other side of the boathouse, sticking close to the cover of bushes. It's not me who's going to get a fright today. Not on your life. The giggling has softened into murmuring and something else. There's a deeper voice. Male. The Torture Twins are not alone. All the better. I'll surprise the lot of them, let them know I won't be their willing fool ever again.

I take two steps closer and jump out in time to see Felicity locked in an embrace with a Gypsy. She sees me and lets out a bloodcurdling scream, I scream. She screams again. And now we're both panting while the white-shirted Gypsy takes in the skittish sight of us, startled bemusement showing in his gold-flecked eyes and in the arch of his thick, dark eyebrows.

"What what are you doing here?" Felicity gasps.

"I might ask you the same question," I say, nodding toward her companion. To be found alone with a man is shockinga reason for a quick and necessary wedding. But to be found with a Gypsy! If I were to tell, Felicity would be ruined for life. If I were to tell.

"I am Ithal," he says in a thick Romanian accent.

"Don't tell her anything," Felicity snaps, still trembling.

Mrs. Nightwing's strident voice cuts through the forest, moving toward us. "Girls! Girls!"

Sheer panic passes over Felicity's gray eyes. "Dear God, she can't find us."

A dozen voices call out our names. They're getting closer. Ithal moves to hold Felicity. " Bater . Let them find us. I am not liking this hiding."

She pushes him away, her voice harsh. "Stop it! Are you mad? I can't be found with you. You've got to go back."

"Come with me." He takes her hand and tries to lead her away but she resists.

"Don't you understand? I can't go with you." Felicity turns to me. "You have to help me."

"Is this a request from the girl who locked me in the chapel last night?" I say, folding my arms across my chest.

Ithal tries to slip an arm around her waist, but she pulls free.

"I didn't mean anything by last night. It was just a laugh, that's all." When she sees that I'm not amused, she tries a different tack. "Please, Gemma. I'll give you whatever you want. My pen set. My gloves. My sapphire ring!"

She moves to take it off her finger but I stay her hand. As delicious as it would be to watch Felicity squirm under Mrs. Nightwing's interrogation, it's better to know that she'll owe her escape to my charity. That should be punishment enough for her.