“Bet you five bucks Savannah doesn’t set foot in Ravenwood.”

Link finally cracked a smile. “That’s what I’m hopin’.”

From the backseat of the Beater, Savannah looked like she was sitting in a big puddle of pink whipped cream. She tried to talk to me a few times, but it was impossible to hear anything over the music. When we turned at the fork in the road that led to Ravenwood, she started to squirm.

Link turned off the radio. “You sure you’re okay with this, Savannah? You know folks say Ravenwood’s been haunted ever since the War.” He said it like he was telling a ghost story.

Savannah lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid. People say lots a things. Doesn’t mean they’re true.”

“Yeah?”

“You should hear what they say about you and your friends.” She turned back to look at me. “No offense.”

Link blasted the radio, trying to drown her out, as Ravenwood’s gates creaked open. “This church picnic ain’t no picnic. / You’re my fried chicken. / Holy finger-lickin’…”

Savannah yelled at him over the music. “Are you callin’ me a piece a fried chicken?”

“Nah. Not you, Slush Queen. Never.” He closed his eyes and pounded out the drums on the dashboard of the Beater. As I got out of the car, I felt sorrier for Link than ever.

Link started to open his door, but Savannah didn’t move. The idea of setting foot inside Ravenwood must not have sounded so good after all.

The door opened before I knocked. I saw a swirl of fabric—green, with a gold shine to it, so it looked like both colors at the same time. Lena pulled the door wide, and the fabric floated off her shoulders, hanging down toward her waist almost like bits of wing.

Do you remember?

I remember. You look beautiful.

I did remember. Lena was the butterfly tonight, like the moon on the night of her Seventeenth Moon. What had looked like magic then still looked like magic now.

Her eyes sparkled.

One green, one gold. One Who Was Two.

A chill swept over me, out of place on the warm December night. Lena didn’t notice, and I forced myself to ignore it. “You look—wow.”

She twirled around, smiling. “You like it? I wanted to do something different. Come out of my cocoon a little.”

You were never in a cocoon, L.

Her smile widened, and I said it again out loud. “You look… like you. Perfect.”

She pushed a curl back to show me her earlobe—a tiny gold butterfly, with one gold wing and one green. “Uncle Macon had them made. And this.” She pointed to a tiny butterfly that rested in the hollow of her neck, attached to a delicate gold chain.

I wished she was wearing her charm necklace, too. The only times I’d ever seen her without it didn’t end well. And I never wanted anything about Lena to change.

She smiled.

I know. I’ll put it on my charm necklace after tonight.

I leaned in and kissed her. Then I held up the small white box I was holding. Amma had made her a corsage by hand, like she did last year.

Lena opened the box. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe there’s a flower still blooming anywhere near here.” But there it was, a single golden blossom, nestled between looping green leaves. If you looked at them right, they were their own version of wings, almost as if Amma had known.

Maybe there were still some things she could see coming.

I slid the corsage onto Lena’s wrist, but it snagged. As I tugged on it, I noticed she was wearing the thin silver bracelet from Sarafine’s box. But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to ruin the night before it even started.

Link honked the horn and cranked up the music even louder.

“We’d better go. Link’s crashing and burning out there. At least, he wishes he was crashing and burning.”

Lena took a deep breath. “Wait.” She put her hand on my arm. “There’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“Don’t be mad.” There was no guy in the world who didn’t know what those words meant. She was about to give me a reason to be mad.

“I won’t.” My stomach curled into a ball.

“You have to promise.” Even worse.

“I promise.” My stomach tightened, and the ball became a knot.

“I told them they could come.” She said it quickly, as if I would be less likely to hear her.

“You told who what?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. There were so many wrong answers to that question.

Lena pushed open the doors to Macon’s old study. Through the crack, I could see John and Liv standing together in front of the fireplace. “They’re together all the time now.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I was pretty sure something was going on. Then Reece saw them repairing Macon’s broken grandfather clock, and she saw their faces.”

A clock. Like a selenometer, or a motorcycle. Things that worked the way Liv’s mind did. I shook it off. Not John Breed, not with Liv.

“Fixing a clock?” I looked at Lena. “That’s the big giveaway?”

“I told you, Reece saw them. And look at them. You don’t have to be a Sybil to figure it out.”

Liv was wearing an old-looking dress, like something she probably found in Marian’s attic. It was low across her shoulders and hung in some complicated lacy way that only the worn leather scorpion belt interrupted. She looked like someone out of a movie you would watch in your English class after you’d read the book. Her blond hair was loose, instead of in braids. She looked different. She looked… happy. I didn’t want to think about it.