I opened my eyes and squinted into the face of a girl I didn’t know. She was fully dressed, and I was fully dressed, so that at least was a promising sign. Seeing the confused expression on my face, she gave me a wry smile.

“I’m Ada. You crashed here last night. But you’ve got to go now before my parents get home.”

I managed to sit up and saw I’d been lying on a hardwood floor, which explained the ache in my back and head. Glancing around, I saw a few other partygoers in similar shape, rustling themselves up and heading for the door. Satisfied I was on my way, Ada rose from her kneeling position and went to kick out the next unwelcome overnight guest.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” I called after her. “Great party.”

At least, I assumed it had been, if I’d crashed on the floor. An empty bottle of vermouth lay near where I’d slept, but I didn’t know if it was mine or not. I hoped not. Getting drunk on vermouth was just sad. The last two weeks had been a blur of decadence and debauchery, but this was the first time I’d actually stayed over somewhere. Usually, Nina managed to see that I got back to my place. For a moment, I felt hurt that she hadn’t been here to look after me again. Then, I vaguely remembered that it was Monday now, and she hadn’t wanted to stay out late before her workweek started.

It looked to be about six in the morning when I stepped outside, and the rising sun was merciless on my hangover. Few people were out yet. On vampiric time, this was pretty late at night. People would be going to bed in the next few hours. Even the guardians had light patrols this time of the day, and I only passed a couple as I trudged back to guest housing. One did a double take when he saw me.

“Adrian?”

I thought maybe my reputation had preceded me, and then I saw it was Dimitri. “Oh, hey,” I said. “Good morning. Or something.”

“Looks like you’ve had better,” he observed. “I’m just finishing my shift. You want to go get some breakfast?”

I considered, unsure of my last solid meal. “My stomach’s pretty empty. I don’t know how it’ll react to that.”

“The fact that you’re unsure probably means you need food that much more,” he said, which sounded like the weirdest logic I’d ever heard. “At least in my experience.”

I wondered how much “experience” he had in these matters. I really didn’t know what he did in his free time. Maybe there was more Russian vodka being consumed than I knew about. I always just figured when he wasn’t working, he and Rose were off grappling on training mats, or whatever passed between those two as foreplay.

“You sure you don’t want to go home and cuddle up with Rose?” I asked. “Wait . . . is she even back? Weren’t they at Lehigh?”

“They’ve been back for a week,” said Dimitri patiently. “Come on, my treat.”

I followed along because really, it was hard to say no to Dimitri Belikov about anything. Plus, I was still processing the news that I’d lost enough time for Rose and Lissa to be back that long. “I can pay. Or, well,” I added bitterly, “my dad can, since that’s the only way my mother and I can apparently survive.”

Dimitri’s expression stayed neutral as we walked into a building that held a number of restaurants, most of which weren’t open yet. “Is that why you’ve been living in such a pit of despair since you got back here?”

“I like to think of it as a lifestyle choice,” I told him. “And how do you know what I’ve been doing?”

“Word gets around,” he said mysteriously.

The restaurant he took us to was chock-full of guardians who must’ve just gotten off their shifts. It was also probably the safest place at Court, judging from their numbers.

“What I do is my own business,” I said hotly.

“Of course it is,” he agreed. “This just hasn’t been your kind of business for a while. I’m surprised to see it come back.”

The restaurant served buffet breakfast, and though my mother would’ve fainted at the thought of serving herself, I obligingly took a plate and followed Dimitri into the line. Once we had our trays, we settled into a small table in the corner. He didn’t touch his food and instead leaned toward me with a look that meant all business.

“You’re better than this, Adrian,” he said. “Whatever the reason, you’re better than it. Don’t trick yourself into thinking you’re weaker than you are.”

It was so like what Sydney had told me in the past that it momentarily took me aback. Then, my anger returned. “Is that why you invited me here? To lecture? Don’t even act like you know anything about me! We aren’t that good of friends.”

That comment seemed to surprise him. “That’s too bad. I’d hoped we were. I’d hoped I knew the real you.”

“You don’t,” I said, shoving my tray aside. “No one does.” Only Sydney, I thought. And she’d be ashamed of me.

“There are a lot of people who care about you.” Dimitri was still the picture of calm. “Don’t turn away from them.”

“Like they’ve turned away from me?” I demanded, thinking of Lissa’s refusal to help. “I tried asking for help, and I was refused! No one can help me.” I stood up abruptly. “I’m not hungry anymore. Thanks for the ‘pep talk.’”

I left my untouched tray and stormed out on him. He didn’t follow, for which I was glad, since he probably could have literally dragged me back with no effort. I left from anger—and also from humiliation. His words hurt, not just because they leveled judgment at me—judgment I’d already been giving myself—but because they again reminded me of Sydney. Sydney, who’d always said I was so much more. Well, I’d done a damned good job of proving her wrong. I’d failed her. Dimitri’s words had driven that home, even if he didn’t realize it.