The first touch weaved well into what was already intended. Narcissa released the following statement on Chatter:

@RealCassCain invited me to the Sowing Tomorrow Gala. I’m bringing The Maker’s Tear with me. Not like I got to worry about you-know-who.

I waited until the following day to implement the next step. Fortunately, this was one I could do via a call. We exchanged pleasantries before I went straight into business.

“Have you heard about Narcissa?” I asked.

“I heard about you inviting her to the gala,” Gale said. “You placed me in an awkward position. Governor Arkland still wishes to attend, as do some of the other agents. We’re to discuss it further today.”

“My apologies. It seemed the best gambit at the time, what with your accusations.”

“Then I suppose this is the fate I deserve, for my mistake.”

My grasp on the phone tightened. I must be hearing things, I thought. It couldn’t be so simple – not after everything else which had occurred. “You’ve changed your mind?”

“I delved into your alibi. I’m so sincerely sorry for leaping to conclusions.”

My mouth slacked. I wished to speak, but for once, I was at a loss for words. All I could do was speak my genuine thoughts. “I didn’t expect this…”

“Neither did I. But I’m happy for it. I took no pleasure in suspecting you.”

“And I took none in being suspected.”

A sparse chuckle came through the receiver. “I imagine. Well, you’re free from all suspicions from hereon. You needn’t go the lengths you are anymore.”

“I can’t halt now. I gave my word to Narcissa.”

“I suspected you’d say something like that. Well then, allow me to atone for this mishap by assisting with security.”

I rapidly blinked, once more uncertain I heard what I had. To say this was going well would’ve been an understatement. It was all according to plan – too according to plan. I couldn’t help but wonder if Gale was trying to lower my guard.

“What if Governor Arkland prioritizes her safety that night?” I asked, testing the waters.

“I can still attend. It’s not as if I’m the lone operative protecting her.”

I pursed my lips while considering what I’d do if I were in Gale’s position.

The first thought I had turned the gala against me. Gale could essentially recreate a summation gathering, like the conclusion of a Sharon Ford Mystery, and expose me as The Grandmaster of Theft at the gala meant to entrap me.

That’s absurd, I realized.

One, if he had decisive evidence against me, he’d simply arrest me. Two, Gale lacked a sense of stagecraft. Any move he made would be based purely on pragmatism. Three, even if the former two aspects weren’t true, the ploy itself was high risk, high reward. If it went awry, he’d not only embarrass The ICN, but harm his career. If he had a scheme, it had to be unobtrusive.

Perhaps he’s simply seeking evidence? I considered.

It would be the perfect night for it, seeing as it was when The Grandmaster would be expected to strike. He’d be at ground zero and ready to respond. What’s more, he could maintain an eye on me – or I suppose I should say Becca posing as me.

Fear ratcheted my spine as the worst-case scenario lurched to the forefront of my thoughts.

Gale could speak with Vincent. Gale could inform Vincent of my disappearance. And Vincent, upon learning of my disappearance, could connect when I vanished with The Grandmaster of Theft being in Sokkinhveim.

I had to keep Gale away from Vincent.

“Cassidy?” Gale said. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry. I was thinking.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“About?”

I chomped on my inner cheek. I couldn’t conceive of a reason to reject his offer. Or at least, I couldn’t at the time. I didn’t wish to risk earning his ire again – in case all he said was authentic.

“I was considering your offer to join the gala security,” I said. “I’ll accept your involvement under one condition. Please do not mention your investigation or suspicions to anyone.”

“You don’t want me to clear matters up with Narci—”

“No.”

I could practically hear the gears turning on Gale’s end of the phone. “Why not?”

“I’d rather she nor anybody else learn about my gambling. It’s kept covert for a reason.”

“Speaking of,” Gale said, “I was meaning to have a word with you about your gambling…”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. A part of me wished I hadn’t used it as a pretext, but it was better than the alternative. Regardless, after his lecturing against the vice of gambling, he swore his silence on the matter. I ended the call with Gale seemingly out of the way.

Nevertheless, my stomach churned. My thoughts turned to the worst. Hope for the best, plan for the worst, I told myself again.

The worst scenario I could picture involved Gale placing covert surveillance on Rebecca. Under normal circumstances, it would make no difference, given the pretext we had. On the day of the gala, however, it could cause issues. I couldn’t travel anywhere suspicious as Rebecca. I’ll simply have to rid myself of any tails, I thought.

Fortunately, I had an idea of how to accomplish such a feat. I simply had to get in touch with Lilah one last time before the gala, which I intended to do anyway.

I called Lilah via my burner phone later that night, after handling the day’s business and brainstorming.

“What’s the status of everything? I asked.

“It’s all ready, though just so you know, the copter is a rental.”

“Off the books?”

“I’m not an amateur,” she said, restraint in her voice. “Just tell me where Crow will meet you. I’ll handle the rest.”

“I’ll be in the waters, so I’ll give coordinates later. Also, I have a dead drop request.”

“What now?”

“I require a blonde wig, duct tape, and a deflated beach ball. Have each placed within a plastic and taped inside a Limelight Cinema toilet tank.”

“…Why? What could you possibly do with those?”

“Lose a tail,” I said, “if I have any. First, the box office will place distance between them and me, as they’ll need to gain access to the rest of the theatre. I can use said time to head to the bathroom, where I’ll swap disguises. The beach ball will complete the guise.”

“How?”

“Pregnancy. Who wishes to bother a pregnant woman?”

The line went silent. I’m certain she was in awe of my creativity and brilliance, not that she’d admit it. When she did speak, all she said was, “I’ll add it to the list. Anything else?”

“Just one question. How’s Sylvia?”

“She’s fine. Better, even. The shock from everything made her more cautious.”

I narrowed my eyes. My intuition told me that Lilah was either misrepresenting matters or interpreting them in a manner she found favorable. Whatever the case, my path forward remained the same. “I still intend to speak with her when this job is over.”

“You’re free to, but I doubt it’ll go as you think.”

“We’ll see,” I said, as I had no desire to squander my time with a meaningless argument. I was certain I could get through to Sylvia, so long as I had the chance. I was likewise certain Lilah wouldn’t enjoy it, but that was none of my concern.

We ended our call no longer after and I tried to return to what little business I had left with the gala. However, I couldn’t focus. An ache prowled around my ribs. Something told me that sooner or later, Lilah and I would match wits. We’ve mutually assured destruction, my more rational side said, but my intuition warned me regardless. Something didn’t sit right with me.

If I’m Lilah, I thought, why would I risk a conflict? What would I seek to gain?

The answer was obvious: Ozonnole’s identity.

KAKAZ! I cursed as the realization unearthed observations I should’ve had prior. Lilah was many things, but passive wasn’t one of them. She’d seek to gain the knowledge I held somehow. And I had provided her ample opportunity through one person: Crow.

My fingers curled in on themselves as more observations linked together.

Lilah was Crow’s client now. He could betray me without betraying his code. What’s more, if he did, he’d take the heat while Lilah obtained the score. It echoes my scheme to frame Marius, I realized. I wondered if I inspired her for a moment, but then my thoughts turned to how Crow could coerce me into answering.

If I were in his position, I’d threaten the gala scheme itself. He simply needed to refuse to take me unless I answered him. Or take me somewhere else. I’d be at his mercy, after all.

My knuckle burned as the scenario played out in my mind.

I could fight him if worse came to worse, but it wouldn’t salvage my scheme. I had to ensure – assuming any of this was true – that Lilah’s betrayal wouldn’t occur until after the gala, at the very least.

I was puzzled about how to control the situation for some time. The first thought which came to my mind was to simply inform her of the truth, of Vincent being Ozonnole, and explain the predicament to her. I remained firm against that, however. The less who knew, the better. What would stop Lilah from acting on it? I couldn’t trust her to possess the same limits I did, especially while Sylvia was involved.

I could incentivize her, I thought as I paced around my room.

Doing so was simple. I’d convince her that allowing me to execute my scheme benefitted her as well. It would ensure any betrayal would occur after the gala stunt.

Now if only I could come up with a way to counter a betrayal, I thought.

I didn’t know enough about Crow to sway him against Lilah, so focusing on him seemed fruitless. The solution had to lie with Lilah.

She wouldn’t wish for me to know she’s behind the scheme, I mused. Maybe the threat of blowback would suffice?

She had her responsibilities as well, after all. This didn’t strike me as a hill worth dying on, especially when cooperation remained an option.

I contacted Lilah once more.

“What now?” she asked, her annoyance evident.

“Are you interested in free money?” I asked.

“What are you up to now?”

“I realized we have a moneymaking opportunity here which shouldn’t go untapped. People gambled on if I’d show the first time around. What’s to stop them from doing so again?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Times like this make it so obvious you come from money.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, a touch of poison in my voice – I didn’t relish the implications of what she was saying.

“You want to use privileged information to make more money. Doesn’t this remind you of anything?”

I scowled. She was alluding to insider trading –which I’d never do. “Do you wish to do this or not?”

“Oh, I will! I’ve never been one to pass on an opportunity.”

“I can think of an opportunity you should pass on.”

“What’s that?”

“I couldn’t help but notice where Crow’s loyalty now lies. And how said loyalty can be utilized to try and obtain Ozonnole’s identity.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I simply wish to warn you that, if you’re considering sabotaging my gala scheme with Crow, it won’t go as you intended.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

While that was possible, seeing as I had used inductive reasoning to reach such a conclusion, I doubted it was true. Besides, if it was the truth, it served as a warning against using the scheme I provided her.

“If what you say is true,” I said, “then neither of us has anything to fret over. If it’s true…”

“Just focus on doing your job and I’ll do mine,” she said before cutting the line.

And with that, all my preparations were complete.

I thought of plenty more schemes. For instance, I could’ve obtained one of the false Maker’s Tears and had Becca swap it during the gala. Or, for another possibility, I could’ve had the mugger who owed me hustle The Braterdarii. Or, when it came to all those investigating me, I could've arranged a flash mob – or perhaps a series of flash mobs – to distract and exhaust anybody attempting to uncover my scheme for the day.

I’m certain I could’ve weaved something even more beautiful than what I already had if I possessed more time.

But, alas, I didn’t. I couldn’t. All I could do was carry out the schemes I had prepared and adjust them when and where they failed.