Page 50 of The Debutantes
“I want you to consider your words carefully,” Mom says. “Because we know where you were. And you’re too bright to lie to us, Piper. So we’re giving you an opportunity to tell the truth.”
Everything inside me tenses up into a tight tiny ball. Theyknow.How do they know?
The Jester. The answer is obvious, hitting me a second too late. Dad just stares, disappointed behind his glasses, and my mind stutters. Panic mode. I don’t know what to say. I always know what to say, but I also never get in trouble. I don’t know how to navigate this.
Mom sits back on the sofa, like she’s too tired to stay fully vertical. “How about a more direct question: Would you care to explain to us why you were out in the French Quarter tonight with Vivian Atkins and April Whitman, dressed up for some kind of ball?”
“I…”
“If you’re thinking about denying it, don’t,” Mom says. “Mrs. Byron saw you from their family’s apartment on Royal.”
I should have known that I’d never get away with sneaking out, not when Mom is so well connected that she practically has eyes and ears all over the city. But a tiny part of me relaxes. Mrs. Byron is a family friend, not involved in Deus, and she definitely wasn’t at the Pierrot. So Mom and Dad don’t know—not where we really were tonight, and not about the other thing, what I’ve been thinking about ever since I read the Jester’s latest message. This is bad, but I can fix this.
“We were just going out,” I say. “It was stupid. And I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have snuck out, but I just…” I pause. “I thought maybe now that I got into college, I could loosen up a bit. Try to have some more fun.”
The lie feels more laughable now than ever, because I cannevertake my eyes off the prize. Even if my family hadn’t drilled that into me already, it would be clear as day from the Jester’s threat. If he knows what I think he does, if hedoessomethingabout it, then everything I’ve worked for the past eighteen years could crumble.
A line creases between Mom’s eyebrows, like it does when she’s focusing on a dress, trying to piece the thing together in her mind before it’s real.
“I also heard from Betty Wilcox,” she says.
Milford, you son of a bitch.
I blink, trying for innocent. “About what?”
“She says Milford came home after the party tonight soaking wet. Apparently, you demanded to know what he saw at the ball and then pushed him into the pool?”
Any chance of hiding my rage dissipates. OfcourseMilford would pull some shit like this. Even though we have that picture of him smoking, he knew how to get a leg up: tattle to my mom like we’re in kindergarten.
“I didn’t push him in the pool,” I argue. “No one pushed him in the pool. He was wasted and he fell, which I’m sure he didn’t mention when he ran to Mommy.”
“Were you interrogating him?” Mom asks.
I open my mouth and then close it again. “We were asking questions,” I say finally, because I don’t think I need to include the water-in-the-face detail.
“We?”
“Me, April, and Vivian. We were trying to figure out what happened at the ball. Who ruined it.”
It’s close enough to the truth that I think they might buy it, but Mom’s stare is still icy. “Well, I’m certain there are moresubtleways to go about it.”
She looks to Dad for backup, and he sighs, a tired but gentle good cop.
“It’s great that you want to help, peanut, but Lily’s parentsand Detective Rutherford are working on it. I know you like to solve problems, but taking this one upon yourself might actually do more harm than good.”
“Lily’smissing.” I know I should calm down, just apologize and deal with the fallout, but I can’t. “What happened at the ball wasn’t just some prank, and it doesn’t seem like anyone’s taking it seriously. And all the Margot stuff…” I watch her name hit Dad like a cold blast of air, and I instantly regret it. “Someone was clearly threatening Lily that night. I don’t know why everyone thinks she just ran away. She’s in real danger.”
“No, she isn’t.”
I stare at Mom, stunned. “But—”
“We got an update from the LeBlancs earlier today,” she explains. “They tracked down her debit-card activity. Lily withdrew several thousand dollars from an ATM the night of the ball. She ran away, Pipes. And they’re trying to find her, of course, but she’s not using her cards, and her phone has been turned off, so it’s been difficult.”
“But they’ll find her,” Dad says gently.
“Of course,” Mom adds.
I’m too stunned to argue. All I can manage is “Lily took out cash?”
