The Glass Ballerina Who Danced On Knives

Two hours late for a facial

A.N: Tap the image to see Trinity's gala dress!

"What is he talking about?" Avery's voice rises.

"This," Alisa satsy, her trademark calm dented but not destroyed, "was the point." This was the same thing she'd said when we'd seen the paparazzi outside the boutique.

The paparazzi. Making sure we were seen. The absolute need to come dress shopping, despite everything that had happened.

Because of everything that had happened.

"You used me as bait?" Avery is yelling now.

Beside me, Thea recovered her voice—and then some. "What the hell is going on here?"

Oren exits the highway and slowed to a stop at a red light. "Yes," he tells everyone apologetically, "we used you—and ourselves—as bait." He glances toward Thea and answers her question. "There was an attack on Avery two days ago. Our friends at the police station agreed to play this my way."

"Your way could have killed us!" Avery chokes.

"We had backup," Oren assures us. "My people, as well as the police. I won't tell you that you weren't in danger, but the situation being what it was, danger was not a possibility that could be eliminated. There were no good options. You had to continue living in that house. Instead of waiting for another attack, Alisa and I engineered what looked like a prime opportunity. Now, maybe we can get some answers."

"You could have told me," Avery says roughly.

"It was better," Alisa tells us, "that you didn't know. That no one knew."

"Did Rebecca know about the attack?" Thea strikes up a conversation with Avery next to me. "Is that why she's been so upset?"

"Oren." Alisa ignores Thea and Avery. "Did they apprehend the driver?"

"They did." Oren pauses, and I caught him looking at me in the rearview
mirror, his eyes softening in a way that made my stomach twist. "Avery, it was your sister's boyfriend."

Drake. "Ex-boyfriend," She corrected, voice getting caught in her throat.

Oren doesn't react. "They found a rifle in his trunk that, at least preliminarily, matches the bullets. The police will be wanting to talk to your sister."

"What?" Avery says. "Why?"

"If Drake was the shooter, someone would have had to sneak him onto the estate," Alisa says, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

"Libby wouldn't—"

"Avery." Alisa put a hand on Avery's shoulder. "If something happens to you— even without a will—your sister and your father are your heirs."

By the time we get back to the House I'm two hours late for my facial so I'm not going. My skin is radiant anyways. I'm lying to myself, I've barely slept for three days.

That's a problem for my makeup team and concealer. For now, I'm about to crash a media consulting class.

I sauter in and see Landon perched on an elegant chair, speaking to Avery who looks about to commit murder.

"I'm grateful to be alive, and I'm grateful to be here tonight." Avery drags the words out.

I slow clap and she turns with a start.
"Trinity! What are you doing here?"

I strode towards her and Landon. "Well I was two goddamn hours late to my facial and my stylists aren't here for another half hour."

"Language, Miss Hawthorne." Landon's crisp accent cuts through the air.