Page 104 of The Debutantes
“Wyatt told us that was you,” I explain.
Now she looks annoyed again. “That was only part of it. I didn’t tell him all the details, obviously, but it was supposed to be a distraction. They’d never suspect me of ruining my ownbig night, so of course they’d think someone else was behind it. I figured Wyatt would be a good fall guy if I needed one.”
“A fall guy?” I repeat. “You used him.”
She laughs. “Come on. It’s not like he’s innocent.”
For a second, I’m frozen. Lily knows. Did she see the email somehow? Did she know all along? But then she brushes past it, and I realize that must not be what she meant at all.
“Anyway, the ball was only the first step. The real point was to have everyone so distracted that they wouldn’t notice what I did next.”
“You texted us to meet you at the Den,” I guess, pushing down the guilt. “That was the next step?”
Lily nods. “I was going to tell y’all everything. You, April, and Piper. And then…” She pauses for long enough that I’m worried she’s not going to say it. “I was going to leave.”
“Leave?” I gape. “Like…”
“Like, run away. Drain my parents’ bank account and get the hell out.”
And there it is, straight from her mouth. She was going to run. Wyatt told me that Lily didn’t care about me enough to tell me, and I wouldn’t believe him. Istilldon’t believe it.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I argue. “Why would you leave?”
“Because I didn’t have a choice.”
“That’s not true. You could have told me what was going on. Or your parents. Or—”
“You don’t get it, Vivian,” she snaps, sharp enough to make me go quiet. “I couldn’t do it anymore. This city. My family. They had my whole life planned out: graduate from Beaumont, go to Vanderbilt, be Queen of Deus when I’m twenty-one, which would be the highlight of my sad little life. Then I’d marry Wyatt or some richer, better version of him, have kids, force themto do Les Masques, and be miserable until it’s time to bury me in the goddamn LeBlanc mausoleum. There was no other way out. Not unless I blew everything up and ran.”
I watch her, the tears in her bright blue eyes. She means every word. I’ve always thought that from the moment she was born and brought back to that wedding-cake mansion on St. Charles Avenue, Lily had the perfect life. But the way she’s describing it, perfect sounds a lot like hell.
But it doesn’t make this any less ridiculous.
“So, what—you were going to drop this bomb on me, April, and Piper and then leave us to deal with the fallout?”
Lily wipes a tear away and looks at me hard.
“Y’all would know what to do. I knew you would. Piper’s a supergenius, April’s this secret badass, and you… Viv, you’re like the strongest person I know.”
Even with everything else she’s said, everything she’s done, those words melt over me like butter. But it only makes my next question hurt more.
“Then why didn’t you give me a heads-up?” I ask. “If I’m supposed to be your best friend, why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”
“I was going to,” Lily argues. “But just before I left the ball, I got a text from this random number saying they knew what I was planning, and they had information that would change everything.”
The text I saw her get outside of the country club. That must be what she’s talking about.
“It was Coach and Marty,” I realize.
Lily nods. “Obviously, I know that now. But I still didn’t have all the proof I needed—not anything undeniable, something the Pierrot couldn’t twist against us. So whoever sent that text, Ifigured maybe they could help. But I was careful about it. I mean, I thought so. I’d already stashed the burner in the darkroom for y’all, and I scheduled that email to send the next morning in case anything went wrong. And I’m glad I did. Because when I got to the Den to meet them…” She gestures around us. “Well, here we are.”
And then I see it: her hand, creeping up to touch her still-missing necklace. She sees me catch it, and her hand drops quickly, but it’s too late.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
She laughs. “Well, that would only be fair, right? You’ve been keeping a pretty big one from me.”
Everything stops. She knew. Of course she knew. I should try to explain, beg for forgiveness, but right now, I’m too ashamed even to respond. Even now, when it’s already happening, I’m too afraid to watch our friendship burn.
