Page 95 of All's Fair in Love and Blackmail

His answer is hesitant. “What do you mean?” he says slowly. “You’ve got a couple days before everything has to be in to go to print. But—something other than theLucky is for Lovers?”

“No,” I say quickly. “A separate piece. Here’s what I’m thinking.” The more I explain, the more excited he gets, and by the time I hang up, I think Herb is just as on board with this idea as I am. I shoot off a quick text to Poppy with a question I need answered, and then I pull away from Cyrus’s as quickly as the speed limit will allow, heading back to work.

I have a lot to do.

INDIA

There’ssomething to be said for losing yourself in a book.

Or maybe I shouldn’t say it that way. I’m not losing myself when I read. I’m traveling outside of myself, exploring. When I reachThe End, I have returned.

The journey I’ve been taking over the last couple days is to snowy Massachusetts, to the March family, and the Laurences—to theLittle Womencharacters I only vaguely remembered.

I know them now, only halfway through this book, and I love them.

That’s the magic of reading. My heart aches for people I’ve never met—people who don’t really exist. But through books, we as a society create a collective consciousness. It’s crazy and amazing and incredible enough that I can believe in so many other things, too.

Like love, and the future, and the possibility of days to come.

“I think I’m a Jo,” Juliet says thoughtfully from where she’s sprawled next to me on Aurora’s bed. She takes up a lot of room for someone so spatially aware; I’m hugging the edge of the bed, barely claiming my corner of the pillow.

Over at her desk, Aurora snorts, not looking away from her computer. She’s got her hair in a ponytail, her sweats and t-shirt well loved. “In no way are you a Jo,” she says. “You’re an Amy or a Beth.”

Jules frowns. “Is she the one who dies?”

“Beth does,” I say. “But Amy and Beth are both great. There’s nothing wrong with either of them.”

“Well, sure,” Juliet grumbles, sinking down further on the bed so that her chin is pressed against her chest. “Until she dies.”

I nudge Jules. “You could be a Jo, if you wanted. There’s no rule saying you can’t. But also—Amy doesn’t die. Amy lives happily and forever. You could be an Amy.”

“Does she get a cute guy?”

“Just read the book, Jules,” Aurora says. She pauses. “Or I bet there are some good audiobook adaptations.”

“Of course there are,” I say. “Some great ones, I bet. We should find one and listen to it.” I nudge her. “It’s a sister book. Let’s do it. Or we could watch the movies!”

Juliet isn’t much of a reader. She’s never been strong academically; she’s not dumb, but she struggles to sit down and concentrate, and she’s always been self-conscious about it.

“We could watch the movie,” she says in a small, hopeful voice.

“Let’s do it,” Aurora says with a nod. Her hands still on her keyboard, and then she sighs, clicking out of whatever she’s doing. She spins in her chair to face us. “I’m kicking you guys out now. I’m tired.”

“Youlooktired,” I say, eyeing her. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

Before she can answer, though, my phone buzzes. I frown, digging my phone out from where I’ve been lying on top of it, somewhere beneath my back. With anoomphI pull it free and then hold it up.

I have a new text.

I stare at that text. Blink. And then I stare at it some more.

Felix

Come to your window. I’m here.

Aurora stands up and crosses the room, peering over my shoulder, and I can hear her little frown in her voice when she says, “Who’s here? Felix?”

“What—at our house?” Juliet says. She hops off the bed.

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