The company's grand ballroom took Taylor's breath away. Crystal chandeliers cast rainbows across marble floors, while ornate columns stretched toward a ceiling painted with classical scenes.

  Mayor Christner stood near the entrance, his outfit a tasteful interpretation of a court jester - deep purple and gold panels arranged in diamond patterns, with tiny bells that chimed softly as he moved. His wife wore a matching dress in reverse colors, while their son Rory sported a modernized version in black and silver.

  "Look, the Pelhams!" Emma whispered, nodding toward a group near the refreshment table.

  The heroic family had coordinated their outfits to echo their New Wave costumes without being too blatant. Sarah Pelham's white gown featured crystal accents that caught the light like her force fields, while Neil's broad shoulders filled out a midnight blue tuxedo with silver geometric patterns.

  The Stansfield family had gone all-in on their medieval theme. The father wore elaborate plate armor crafted from lightweight materials, his wife in a flowing dress reminiscent of a lady of the court. Their children wore squire and page outfits, complete with prop swords.

  A collective murmur drew their attention to the grand staircase as Victoria Dallon made her entrance. Glory Girl had foregone her usual hero costume for a stunning interpretation of Sleeping Beauty - a gossamer gown in pale blue and silver that seemed to float around her as she descended. Her tiara caught the light, real diamonds glinting among the crystals.

  "She's not even using her aura," Taylor muttered. "That's all natural presence."

  Emma nodded, taking in the other guests - CEOs in designer suits, socialites dripping in jewels, and what looked like genuine European nobility in their formal best. "We definitely came to the right party."

  Emma tugged at Taylor's sleeve, pointing discreetly toward a cluster of people near the dance floor. "That's judge Morrison - he has presided over some of the most important corporate cases at my dad's firm."

  Taylor's spider mask concealed her wide eyes as she took in the gathering of Brockton Bay's elite. "The woman in the peacock dress? That's Diana Chase - she owns half the radio stations on the East Coast."

  "Act natural," Emma whispered, straightening her posture and lifting her chin. She'd practiced her model walk all week leading up to this, but her fingers still fidgeted with her dress.

  They wove through the crowd, trying not to stare at the displays of wealth surrounding them. A live orchestra played from a raised platform, their music floating above the steady hum of conversation.

  "Should we get something to drink?" Taylor's voice cracked slightly, and she cleared her throat. "To look more... sophisticated?"

  "Definitely." Emma steered them toward a waiter carrying flutes of sparkling cider - the non-alcoholic version for younger guests. They each took a glass, mimicking the way the adults held theirs.

  "I can't believe we're actually here." Taylor sipped her drink, watching a group of international investors discuss portfolio diversification. "These people could fund entire research departments with what they're wearing."

  Emma nodded, her vampiress mask catching the light. "And did you see the chancellor from Cornell? That’s dad’s alma mater. Dad says he never comes to these things unless there's something big in the works."

  They found a quiet spot near one of the marble columns, trying to look poised while taking in every detail. The ornate masks around them ranged from simple dominos to elaborate creations that must have cost thousands.

  "Remember," Emma whispered, "shoulders back, small sips, and-"

  "Don't gawk at anyone," Taylor finished. "Even if they're wearing actual crown jewels."

  Emma leaned close to Taylor, her mask brushing against Taylor's spider web design. "Look at all this." Her eyes swept across the ballroom. "The most powerful people in the city, all in one place. And we're here because of what we accomplished at one school."

  Taylor shifted her weight, the silver threading in her dress catching the light. "Winslow was just the beginning. A proof of concept."

  "Exactly." Emma's red-painted lips curved into a smile. "If we got invited here from improving one failing school, imagine where we'll end up once we expand." She gestured subtly toward the crowd. "Every person here has connections to other schools, other cities."

  "The study guides are working better than expected," Taylor admitted, watching a group of business executives laugh over champagne. "And with the music system in place-"

  "We could help so many students." Emma's voice took on an eager edge. "Not just grades, but sports, behavior, everything. Principal Blackwell's already talking about presenting our results at the next district meeting."

  Taylor rolled her glass between her fingers. "Other principals will want the same results."

  "And their students deserve the chance." Emma straightened her back, confidence radiating through her pose. "We started with one classroom, then one grade, then the whole school. Why stop there?"

  "The possibilities..." Taylor trailed off, watching Victoria Dallon twirl across the dance floor. "We could reshape entire school districts."

  "Think bigger." Emma's eyes sparkled behind her mask. "Private schools, universities, anywhere that wants to give their students an edge. And who wouldn't want that?"

  Taylor watched a waiter weave through the crowd with practiced grace. Her mind raced with new possibilities, expanding beyond the familiar halls of Winslow.

  "The docks," she whispered. "All those unemployed workers. With the right roles, they could rebuild the shipping industry."

  Emma caught her thoughtful expression. "What are you thinking?"

  "We've been so focused on students." Taylor's fingers traced the spider web pattern on her dress. "But there are people all over the city who need direction, purpose. The homeless could become craftsmen, the gangs could turn to legitimate work."

  "Through your tech?"

  "Modified versions of it. Different roles for different needs." Taylor's eyes drifted to Mayor Christner deep in conversation with a group of businessmen. "Imagine if we could give everyone in the city the skills they need to succeed. Not just academic knowledge, but practical abilities."

  "The whole city?" Emma raised an eyebrow. "That's... ambitious."

  "Look around this room." Taylor gestured to the gathered elite. "These people have the power to implement real change, but they're stuck in the same patterns. What if we could help them see new solutions? Break out of old ways of thinking?"

  "You're talking about changing how the entire city functions."

  "Why not? We proved it works at Winslow. The students are happier, more successful. They have direction." Taylor straightened her shoulders. "The city could be like that too. Not just surviving, but thriving."

  Emma studied her friend's face, seeing the spark of inspiration behind her spider mask. "You really think you could do it?"

  "I'd need to develop new techniques, expand what I can do." Taylor watched Victoria Dallon float gracefully above the dance floor. "But yes. We've been thinking too small, Em. Winslow was just the first step."

  "Emma! Taylor!" Jessica's voice carried across the marble floor. Her Miss Militia-inspired dress rippled with shades of army green as she rushed over, Nessa close behind in Battery's blue and silver.

  "You both look incredible." Nessa circled them, the silver accents on her dress catching the light. "Is this Marissa's work? The detail on the webbing is exactly her style."

  Taylor stood straighter, realizing she had to tilt her head down slightly to meet their eyes despite their higher heels. "Good eye. She really outdid herself."

  "The way she incorporated the vampire bat motif into your neckline, Emma - pure genius." Jessica ran her fingers along the edge of Emma's collar. "And Taylor, those silver threads must have taken forever to place just right."

  "She mentioned you two while we were at the fitting." Emma smoothed her skirt. "Your dresses capture the heroes perfectly without being costumey."

  "The silver circuitry pattern?" Nessa twirled, showing off the glowing lines that mimicked Battery's power. "All hand-stitched. I watched her do it."

  "And these green panels shift color when I move," Jessica demonstrated with a spin. "Just like Miss Militia's power."

  Taylor adjusted her spider mask. "She really knows how to capture the essence of a theme without being too literal."

  "Speaking of capture-" Nessa pulled out her phone. "We need photos. The four of us together will drive social media crazy."

  They posed against one of the ornate pillars, Taylor's height making her stand out even more prominently in the group shot. The twins' infectious energy had drawn a small crowd of admirers, all commenting on their matching hero-inspired ensembles.

  "Come on, you have to meet Max." Jessica looped her arm through Emma's. "He'll love you both."

  "Max Anders? The CEO of Medhall?" Taylor's spider mask couldn't hide her surprise.

  Nessa nodded. "He's practically our uncle. Well, sort of."

  "I didn't know you were connected to the Anders family." Emma allowed herself to be guided through the crowd.

  "It's complicated." Jessica's smile dimmed for a moment. "Our parents passed when we were really little. Our cousin Heather took us in."

  "She was Max's first wife," Nessa continued. "The sweetest person you'd ever meet. Made the transition so much easier for us."

  "Was?" Taylor caught the past tense.

  Jessica's grip on Emma's arm tightened slightly. "She died about three years after taking us in. Car accident."

  "But Max-" Nessa brightened. "He never stopped looking out for us. Made sure we had everything we needed growing up. Private school, modeling classes, college funds."

  "He didn't have to," Jessica added. "Legally, he wasn't obligated. But that's just who he is."

  "That's... incredibly generous of him." Taylor felt a new appreciation for the man she'd only known from newspaper photos.

  "Which is why you absolutely have to meet him." Nessa started scanning the crowd. "He has a way of seeing potential in people. And you two? You're definitely going places."

  "Max!" Jessica waved across the ballroom. "There are two amazing people you need to meet."

  Max Anders turned from his conversation, his Dauntless-inspired costume catching the light. The Roman-style breastplate hugged his broad chest, and the cape draped perfectly across his shoulders. Unlike many of the other partygoers mimicking hero costumes, he had the build to make it look natural rather than costume-shop tacky.

  "Jessica, Nessa - you've been holding out on me." His smile reached his eyes as he approached. "Who are these lovely young ladies?"

  "Emma Barnes and Taylor Hebert," Nessa made the introductions. "They're the ones behind those study guides revolutionizing Winslow."

  "Ah, I've heard whispers about that." He clasped Emma's hand warmly. "Quite impressive, turning around the academic performance of an entire school. And at your age?"

  Taylor felt her cheeks flush as he turned his attention to her. "We just wanted to help our classmates."

  "Modesty and initiative - a powerful combination." He gestured to a nearby waiter, who appeared with champagne flutes of what looked like sparkling cider. "To the future leaders of Brockton Bay."

  "The costumes are magnificent," he continued, studying the intricate details. "Marissa's work, I assume? She has a gift for capturing personality in fabric."

  Emma beamed. "You can tell just by looking?"

  "I make it my business to recognize talent." He tapped his glass against theirs. "In all its forms."

  The way he said it made Taylor stand straighter. Here was someone who understood ambition, who saw past the surface to the potential beneath.

  "Though I must say," he added with a conspiratorial wink, "your achievements at Winslow are far more interesting than any costume. Perhaps we could discuss your methods sometime? Medhall has several educational initiatives that could benefit from fresh perspectives."

  "Speaking of young talent, I should introduce you to my son Theo and his date. They're around here somewhere." Max scanned the crowd. "Both attend Immaculata. Though between us, I suspect they're hiding from all the small talk by the dessert tables."

  He chuckled, gesturing toward an elaborate chocolate fountain surrounded by fresh fruit and pastries. "You should try it - imported Belgian dark chocolate. My sister Maria ruined a five-thousand dollar dress at one of these events when we were teenagers."

  "What happened?" Emma asked, drawn in by the hint of a scandal.

  "She was determined to prove she could catch the chocolate stream in her mouth without spilling a drop." Max shook his head, but his expression was fond. "Of course, someone bumped her elbow at the crucial moment. The dress was unsalvageable, but the look on Father's face when Heather walked into the dining room covered head-to-toe in chocolate - priceless."

  His smile dimmed slightly. "She always did know how to light up a room, my sister. Even when she was causing chaos."

  Taylor caught the past tense, losing a wife and a sister early must be hard, and Mr. Anders didn't even look close to forty! Before the moment could grow awkward, Max brightened again.

  "Well, don't let me monopolize your evening. Go explore, enjoy yourselves. The chocolate fountain awaits - though perhaps with more decorum than my sister managed."

  "Come meet everyone!" Jessica looped her arm through Emma's while Nessa grabbed Taylor's hand. They weaved through the crowd toward a cluster of well-dressed figures near one of the marble columns.

  "Darlings!" A tall woman with silver-streaked black hair air-kissed the twins. "And who are these divine creatures?"

  "This is Emma Barnes - she's one of our rising stars at the agency," Jessica announced. "And her friend Taylor."

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The group descended into a flurry of industry talk. Discussion of upcoming shows in New York, the latest designer drama, and predictions for next season's trends flew back and forth. Emma's eyes sparkled as she soaked in every detail, asking intelligent questions that made the veterans nod approvingly.

  Taylor shifted her weight, trying to look interested as they debated the merits of different photographers. The names meant nothing to her, and she couldn't bring herself to care about the "revolutionary" new fabric treatment someone had developed.

  Emma glanced at her friend mid-conversation, noting Taylor's glazed expression. She gave Taylor's arm a subtle squeeze and tilted her head slightly toward the rest of the ballroom - a clear "you can go" gesture.

  Taylor shot her a grateful look. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll get some fresh air."

  The fashion crowd barely noticed her departure, already deep in debate about whether Paris or Milan would set next season's tone. Emma dove right back in, her natural charm drawing them in as Taylor slipped away into the crowd.

  Taylor wandered through the glittering crowd, pausing at the chocolate fountain to snag a strawberry. The dance floor caught her attention as the music shifted to a Latin beat.

  Victoria Dallon's tiara sparkled under the chandeliers as Dean spun her across the floor. Her powder-blue ball gown swirled around her feet, the rhinestones catching the light like stars. Dean's silver-trimmed armor-inspired suit moved with surprising flexibility as he led her through the steps.

  Across from them, a couple Taylor didn't recognize matched them move for move. The woman's golden dress sparked with white accents that mimicked her dance partner's white tuxedo with gold trim. Both pairs moved with practiced grace, hips swaying to the rhythm as they executed complex turns and dips.

  The crowd had drawn back to give them space, forming a circle of appreciative onlookers. Dean lifted Victoria in a dramatic spin that had her dress floating around her like a cloud. Not to be outdone, the unknown man caught his partner's hand and pulled her into a series of rapid twirls that left her laughing.

  Victoria's face held a competitive gleam as Dean led her through a series of quick steps, their feet moving in perfect synchronization. The other couple responded with a sultry combination that had the audience whistling.

  The dance floor had become a battlefield of grace and skill, each pair trying to outdo the other while maintaining the appearance of casual enjoyment. Taylor found herself tapping her foot to the beat as she watched them, admiring the obvious chemistry between both couples.

  Taylor drifted away from the dance floor, weaving between clusters of laughing party-goers. The corridors of Medhall's executive floor had been transformed for the evening, with fabric draped artfully across the walls and floral arrangements brightening every corner.

  She paused at a window overlooking the city lights, taking a moment to admire the view from this high up. The sound of raised voices drew her attention to an alcove tucked behind a large potted plant.

  A boy and girl around her age stood in heated discussion. The girl's dress mimicked Vista's costume in shades of mint green and white, complete with wavy lines that created optical illusions as she moved. Her date wore a modernized version of Triumph's signature look, the gold accents of his suit catching the light when he gestured.

  "You're being completely unreasonable," the boy hissed, running a hand through his dark blonde hair.

  The girl crossed her arms, her face flushed. "I'm not the one who-" She cut herself off, glancing around before lowering her voice.

  Taylor pretended to be absorbed in adjusting her spider mask, staying just within earshot. The couple continued their heated exchange in whispers, neither noticing her presence behind the broad leaves of the plant.

  The boy's shoulders slumped as he leaned against the wall. Despite his sizable appearance, something about his posture made him seem smaller, younger. The girl's expression softened slightly, but her stance remained rigid as they continued their quiet argument.

  "Come on, Theo, just one dance." The girl tugged at his sleeve. "The orchestra's playing that waltz you like."

  Theo shook his head, shoulders hunched. "You don't really want to dance with me, Tammi. You're only here because Dad made you come."

  Her green dress rippled as she stepped back. "What?"

  "I heard you talking to Jessica about how you got stuck with the 'fat kid' because Kaiser wanted to keep you in line."

  "That's not-" Tammi's face reddened. "Okay, fine. Your dad suggested it. But I said yes because I wanted to."

  "Right." Theo's voice dripped sarcasm. "Because you're so desperate to be seen with me."

  "God, you're such a little bitch sometimes." Tammi's whisper turned harsh. "You want to know why I don't want to be seen with you? It's this pathetic attitude. Fuck this." She spun on her heel, the mint fabric of her dress swishing. "I'm going to find someone who actually has a spine."

  She stormed off, leaving Theo alone in the alcove. His head dropped forward, blonde hair falling across his face as he stared at the floor.

  Theo glanced up, catching Taylor's eye. "Enjoy the show?"

  "I'm so sorry." Taylor's cheeks flushed behind her spider mask. "I shouldn't have been eavesdropping."

  "Not your fault." He shrugged, straightening the golden trim on his costume. "Tammi's the one who decided to make a scene."

  "Still, I could have walked away." Taylor shifted her weight, the silver threads in her dress catching the light.

  "I'm Theo." He extended his hand, a weak smile crossing his face. "Just Theo."

  "Taylor." She shook it, noting his firm but gentle grip. "Also just Taylor."

  "Nice costume." Theo gestured at her dress. "The web pattern's really clever. Did Marissa make it?"

  "Yes, actually. Does everyone know her here? How did you know?"

  "The attention to detail. Plus the twins were showing off their matching hero costumes earlier." He leaned against the wall. "She does amazing work."

  Taylor nodded, studying his Triumph-inspired outfit. The fabric looked expensive, the gold accents perfectly placed. "Yours is pretty impressive too."

  They found a quiet corner away from the dancing crowds. The orchestra's music provided a gentle backdrop to their conversation.

  "So what do you do when you're not attending fancy galas?" Taylor asked.

  "Read mostly. History, philosophy. Sometimes I sketch." Theo's voice grew warmer. "My mom used to draw. I found her old sketchbooks in the attic."

  "My mom was an English professor." Taylor traced the silver threads on her dress. "She'd read me Lord of the Rings every night when I was little. Did all the different voices and everything."

  "That sounds nice." Theo's smile turned wistful. "I was pretty young when my mother passed. Before five. The memories are... fuzzy."

  "I'm sorry." Taylor's hand twitched, almost reaching out. "Mine was just two years ago. It was... messy."

  Theo met her eyes, a depth of understanding in his gaze that made him seem older than fifteen. He nodded but didn't elaborate on his own loss.

  "Sometimes I'll catch a whiff of her perfume," Taylor continued softly. "Or see someone with similar hair. It's like... for a split second..."

  "At least you have those memories." Theo's voice was barely a whisper. "The sound of her voice reading stories, the smell of her perfume. I..." He swallowed hard. "I have to look at photos to remember what my mom looked like."

  Taylor's fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress. "Sometimes I wish I could forget. When I see her empty chair at dinner, or find one of her bookmarks..." She trailed off. "The pain is still so raw."

  "Does it get easier?" Theo asked. "Everyone says it does, but-"

  "I don't know." Taylor shook her head. "Some days I think I'm fine, then something small happens - Dad making her favorite recipe or finding an old grocery list in her handwriting - and it's like losing her all over again."

  Theo stared at his hands. "I used to make up memories. Things I thought should have happened. Mom teaching me to ride a bike, or tucking me in at night. But they're just... stories I told myself."

  "That's..." Taylor searched for words. "I can't imagine not having those real moments to hold onto, even if they hurt."

  "Maybe it's better this way." Theo's shoulders slumped. "You can't miss what you never really had, right?"

  "I think both ways just... suck." Taylor's blunt assessment drew a surprised laugh from Theo. "Having too many memories that hurt, or too few to hold onto - neither one feels fair."

  "No," Theo agreed quietly. "It really doesn't."

  The orchestra shifted into a new piece, a gentle waltz that filled the ballroom with sweeping notes.

  Theo straightened up, extending his hand toward Taylor. "Would you like to dance?"

  "Oh, I..." Taylor's fingers twisted in her dress. "I don't know how."

  "I could teach you." His smile was warm, without a trace of judgment. "The basic waltz isn't too hard. Just a few simple steps."

  Taylor glanced at the dance floor where couples moved in graceful circles. "I don't want to step on your feet."

  "Trust me, I've survived worse. My cousin Nessa used to practice her ballet moves on my toes." He kept his hand outstretched. "What do you say?"

  Taylor hesitated, then placed her hand in his. "Okay, but fair warning - I have two left feet."

  Theo led her to a quiet corner of the dance floor, away from the more experienced dancers. "First, we'll just practice the basic box step. Put your left hand on my shoulder."

  Taylor complied, trying not to feel awkward as Theo gently positioned their joined hands at shoulder height.

  "My right hand goes on your waist - is that okay?"

  She nodded, grateful her spider mask hid her blush.

  "The pattern is simple. Step forward with your right foot when I step back with my left." Theo demonstrated slowly. "Then step to the side with your left foot, and bring your feet together."

  Taylor followed his lead, concentrating on her feet. "Like this?"

  "Perfect. Now we do the same thing going backward. Step back with your left foot, side with your right, then together."

  They practiced the basic steps a few times, Taylor growing more confident with each repetition.

  "See? You're getting it." Theo's voice held a note of pride. "Want to try it with the music?"

  "As long as you don't mind me counting under my breath."

  "One-two-three, one-two-three," they whispered together, moving in time with the orchestra's gentle rhythm.

  Taylor blinked as she realized they'd drifted from their practice corner onto the main dance floor. The orchestra's melody swelled around them, and her initial panic faded as Theo guided her through the steps they'd practiced.

  "You're doing great," he murmured, his movements smooth and assured. "Just keep following my lead."

  The silk of her dress swished against the polished floor as they turned. Other couples moved around them in elegant circles, but Taylor found herself focusing only on the rhythm and Theo's steady presence.

  "I can't believe I'm actually dancing." She laughed softly. "And not tripping over my own feet."

  "You're a natural." His smile reached his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. "Want to try a turn?"

  Before she could protest, he raised their joined hands. Taylor spun beneath them, her spider-web dress catching the light. She came back to position without stumbling, surprising herself.

  "See? Perfect."

  A flash of red and black caught her eye. Emma stood at the edge of the dance floor, practically bouncing on her toes. Her friend's face split in a huge grin as she thrust both thumbs up in Taylor's direction. The enthusiasm in her expression was almost manic.

  Taylor felt heat rise in her cheeks, grateful again for her mask. She tried to shoot Emma a quelling look, but her friend just waggled her eyebrows and mouthed what looked suspiciously like 'Get it!'

  "Something wrong?" Theo asked.

  "Just my best friend being... herself." Taylor shook her head, focusing back on their dance. "Sorry about that."

  "Friends can be embarrassing sometimes." His gentle understanding made her relax again into the steps of the waltz.

  The final notes of the waltz faded into applause. Theo led Taylor off the dance floor with a small bow that made her giggle.

  "That was lovely." A deep voice cut through their moment. Max Anders stood before them, resplendent in his Dauntless-inspired costume, crystal wine glass dangling from his fingers. "I see you've met my son, Miss Hebert."

  Taylor's eyes widened behind her mask. "Your son?" She turned to Theo, who shuffled his feet.

  "Yeah, sorry I didn't mention it earlier." Theo's shoulders hunched slightly.

  "Theodore has a habit of downplaying his connection to me." Max's laugh held warmth, but Taylor caught Theo tensing at the use of his full name. "Though I must say, he showed excellent form on the dance floor. His mother would have insisted on proper instruction from an early age."

  "Actually, Theo taught me just now." Taylor smoothed her spider-silk dress. "I'd never danced before tonight."

  Max's eyebrows rose above his mask. "Is that so?" He turned to his son with newfound interest. "Taking the lead, Theodore? That's... unexpected."

  Theo's gaze dropped to the marble floor, his jaw tight.

  "He's a wonderful teacher." Taylor caught the pleased glint in Max's eye as he regarded his son. "Patient and clear with his instructions."

  "Indeed?" Max swirled his wine. "Perhaps there's hope for you yet, Theodore."

  Theo's shoulders tensed at what he clearly took as criticism, but Taylor saw the genuine pride in Max's expression - the way his chest had puffed out slightly, how his eyes crinkled at the corners behind his mask.

  "The orchestra is quite talented," Taylor said, trying to ease the sudden tension. "I've never heard live classical music before."

  "Only the best for Medhall's events." Max took a measured sip from his glass. Max's gaze swept across the ballroom, settling on a flash of green and white - Tammi's Vista-inspired dress - near the chocolate fountain.

  "Well, I should let you young people enjoy the rest of your evening." Max's fingers tightened around his wine glass. "And Theodore, don't concern yourself with Miss Herren. I'll handle that situation."

  Theo's shoulders slumped. "Yes sir. Sorry about the scene."

  "No need to apologize." Max's tone held an edge of exasperation. "The match was my suggestion, after all. These things don't always work out."

  Taylor glanced between father and son, catching the disconnect. Theo's face had fallen further at what he clearly took as confirmation of his failure, while Max's expression showed genuine regret for pushing an unwanted arrangement. The words sat heavy on her tongue - a desire to bridge the gap, to explain what she saw - but she remained silent, unsure how to navigate the delicate dynamic between them.

  "Miss Hebert." Max gave her a small bow. "It was a pleasure. Do enjoy the rest of the gala."

  He strode away, leaving Taylor and Theo in awkward silence.

  "Hey there!" A cheerful voice rang out. Victoria Dallon glided over, her pale blue gown swirling around her feet like seafoam. Dean followed in his gleaming knight costume, complete with a ceremonial sword at his hip.

  "Having fun?" Dean's easy smile put Taylor at ease, though Theo remained subdued beside her.

  "It's my first gala," Taylor admitted. "Everything's so elegant."

  "Wait until you see the spring social." Victoria's eyes sparkled. "Though I heard Winslow's been stepping up its game lately. Those study groups are making waves."

  "We've improved a lot." Taylor lifted her chin. "Our academic scores are climbing every month."

  Victoria waved her hand. "Sure, but Arcadia's still the top school in the bay. Can't beat our advanced placement programs."

  "Maybe not yet." Taylor felt her face warm. "But we're catching up faster than you think."

  "Vicky..." Dean touched her arm as Victoria's aura flickered.

  "What? I'm just saying-"

  "Hey Taylor, have you seen the gardens?" Theo cut in smoothly. "They're incredible at night."

  "The fairy lights are beautiful this time of year," Dean agreed, shooting Theo a grateful look. "My mother helped design the layout."

  Victoria's shoulders relaxed as the tension dissolved. "Oh! Tell them about the fountain, Dean. That's my favorite part."

  Taylor caught Theo's eye and mouthed 'thank you.' He gave a small shrug, but some of the brooding had left his expression.

  The conversation drifted to safer topics, though Theo remained quiet, offering only occasional comments. Still, he stayed by Taylor's side, a steady presence as they navigated the glittering crowd.

  The orchestra shifted to slower melodies as the night wore on. Couples drifted away from the dance floor, gathering their wraps and bidding farewells.

  "I should find Emma," Taylor said, scanning the thinning crowd. The silver threads in her dress caught the dimming lights.

  "Right." Theo shuffled his feet. "Thanks for... you know. Making this bearable."

  "I had fun." Taylor touched his arm. "You're a good teacher."

  His cheeks flushed. "Maybe we could..." He cleared his throat. "I mean, if you wanted to practice more dancing sometime."

  "I'd like that." Taylor pulled a pen from her clutch and wrote her number on a napkin. "Here."

  Theo folded it carefully, tucking it into his jacket pocket. "My father will probably want me to attend more of these events. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to who isn't..."

  "Trying to impress your dad?"

  He nodded. "Exactly."

  Emma appeared through the crowd, her vampiress dress swishing. "Taylor! There you are. Our ride's here."

  "Coming!" Taylor turned back to Theo. "Thanks for the dance lessons."

  "Goodbye, Taylor." He gave a small wave as she walked away, his shoulders already starting to slump back into their usual defeated pose.

  "Spill!" Emma grabbed Taylor's arm as they descended the marble steps, her crimson dress swishing with each movement. "I saw you dancing with that cutie. And don't think I missed you giving him your number. You're not usually this bold!"

  "It wasn't like that." Taylor's spider mask couldn't hide her blush, the silver threads catching the light as she shook her head. "He was just being nice. We talked about books, actually."

  "Nice? He couldn't take his eyes off you the whole night - I was watching." Emma's fangs glinted as she grinned, her perfectly manicured nails drumming against the banister. "Plus, did you see those shoulders? And that jaw? The boy looks like he stepped out of a magazine."

  "Emma!" Taylor hissed, glancing around to make sure no one could overhear.

  "What? I'm just saying, for a wallflower, you sure know how to pick them. Max Anders' son? That's quite a catch. Half the girls in Brockton Bay would kill to be in your shoes right now."

  Taylor stumbled on her heels, catching herself on the railing. "I didn't know who he was at first. He's different from what I expected. The media makes his whole family seem so..."

  "Different good or different bad?" Emma pressed, eyebrows raised beneath her mask.

  "Just... different. Quieter. More genuine than most people here. Like he's trying to be himself instead of what everyone expects him to be."

  A sleek white limousine pulled up to the curb, its polished surface reflecting the building's warm lights. Instead of their previous driver, a tall man with flowing blonde hair and a simple domino mask stepped out, his tailored suit doing little to hide his muscular frame. His movements were precise, military-like as he opened the rear door, positioning himself with perfect posture beside it.

  Taylor froze, her hand tightening on the railing. Inside sat Kaiser in his full metal regalia, the interior lights gleaming off his armor's countless edges and points. The elaborate steel mask that covered his face seemed to watch her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

  "Ladies." His modulated voice filled the cabin, somehow both smooth and sharp at once, like a blade wrapped in silk. "Pardon the interruption, but we need to speak. Immediately."