"Penelope! Penelope! 'I can't stop talking about my poodles' Penelope!" I was pacing furiously on the train as we sped towards Paris. Maxwell, Hana, and Drake were all with me as I caught them up on my discovery. Hana sat calmly at a table, but Maxwell and Drake were both standing, full of angry energy like me.

"I always knew she was a few dogs short of a pack," Maxwell said, jumping up and down while taking short jabs at the air.

"We'll make her sorry she even thought about betraying you, Harkness," Drake assured me.

Hana grabbed my arm and forced me to take a seat next to her. "I'm upset about this too," she said, "But Riley, you have to be careful. If she was able to fool us for so long, who knows what else she's capable of?"

"She's downright diabolical," Maxwell said, slamming himself into a seat across the table from me. "I bet she doesn't even have poodles."

"Hana's right. You have to be careful," Drake said, arms crossed, stance wide. "You have the upper hand right now, because she doesn't suspect that you know anything. You should get her alone, see what you can find out."

"That might be hard," Hana said, "We're going to a fashion show today; there will be tons of people and press everywhere."

I sighed and shook my head. "We'll see what we can do." The train pulled into the station, signalling that it was time for us to go. Maxwell and Hana left first, but Drake pulled me back.

"There, uh," he said, hesitating a little, "There was something else I thought you should know. Olivia and I found out who tried to sell pictures of you to the tabloids."

"You did? That's great! Who was it?"

Drake rubbed the back of his neck, not quite meeting my gaze. "It was Bertrand."

My face fell. "Bertrand? My Bertrand? Bertrand Beaumont?" My gut sank, and I thought I might throw up.

"It was before he really knew you, and he was desperate for cash," Drake said quickly, "Which are lousy excuses, I know. But he did seem really sorry about it, if that matters."

"But he still hid it from me."

"Yeah, I know." He put a hand on my shoulder. He didn't say anything else, but his expression was asking me if I was okay.

I nodded. "I guess that doesn't have to do with our investigation at all, then. We'll have to focus on getting information from Penelope. Are you ready to go?"

Drake shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be to go to a fashion show in Paris."

I laughed as we joined our friends outside the train. Drake rode with Maxwell and I to the show, and when we got in the limo, Justin was there waiting for us. Bertrand was noticeably absent, and I was relieved I didn't have to face him just yet. I still needed time to process what Drake had just told me.

"You've got my earpiece, right Riley?" Justin asked as we settled in. I dug through my purse and fished it out, holding it up in confirmation. "Good," Justin said. "Today is not just about fashion, but also about philanthropy. The media will definitely be there, and you need to be ready to control the story when they talk to you."

"What are we raising money for?" I asked.

"Disaster relief," Justin said, swiping through his phone, already moved on to whatever was next on his personal agenda.

"A huge earthquake recently hit off the southern coast of Cordonia," Drake explained to me, "And it caused a tsunami that did a lot of damage in the duchy of Portavira."

"That's terrible! I had no idea..." I felt guilty at not having heard about the crisis. I was so focused on my own media troubles, I hadn't been paying attention to the country I was supposedly hoping to rule.

"It didn't get a lot of news coverage, especially outside of Cordonia," Maxwell said sadly. "But hopefully the event today will help raise awareness, and some money for the people who lost their homes!"

"So focus on the humanitarian efforts, no matter what the press asks you about today," Justin piped up, just as we reached the venue. "And put in the earpiece when you need me."

He stayed behind as Drake, Maxwell, and I got out of the limo. Maxwell and Drake said goodbye as they went to find Liam, while I was herded to a room backstage where Madeleine and her ladies were already gathered. They were discussing the value of haute couture as an art form.

"Finally," Madeleine huffed as she saw me. "Now that we're all here, I can finally tell you all why I've asked you to meet me backstage." She looked at the group with a glowing smile. "I've arranged a private backstage tour with the stylist of the show today, Lancelin St. Claire."

She led us to a well-dressed man who had just a hint of arrogance in the way he smiled at us all. "Bonjour mademoiselles," he said in greeting.

"C'est un honneur de vous rencontrer, monsieur," Kiara said, gushing as she shook Lancelin's hand enthusiastically.

Once everyone had been introduced, Lancelin led us on a quick tour through the crowded staging area. "Voila, the hair and makeup room, and voici, the wardrobe," he said, barely pausing long enough for us to see where he was pointing. He finished up by allowing us to look through the racks of clothes that would shortly be worn by the models.

While everyone looked, I sidled up to Penelope, who had a huge smile on her face. "Hi Penelope," I said, trying my best to be casual. "It seems like you're really excited to be here."

"It's so wonderful, isn't it?" She said, beaming at me. "I love it here. I wish we could stay forever!" She clasped her hands together dramatically.

"Yeah? I guess I could see you as a model," I said. Penelope was tall and impossibly thin, she would certainly look at home on the runway.

"You can?" she asked, surprised. "That's so kind of you to say! Although, I like making clothes more than I like modeling them."

"Really?" I asked. It was my turn to be surprised.

"Yes," Penelope said. "My mother taught me to sew when I was growing up. She was always so busy with courtly duties that sometimes it was the only time we spent together. I think she intended for me to do lady-like needlework, but I actually preferred making clothes. She...didn't really approve of that." She frowned at this last thought. "She said it was the work for a common seamstress, not her daughter."

"But fashion designers are greatly respected. Practically treated like royalty," I said.

"That's true, isn't it?" Penelope was smiling again. She seemed easy to please.

Hana was nearby and had overheard this part of the conversation. "I used to love making clothes too," she said. "What kind of clothes did you make?"

"Oh," Penelope said, blushing. "I mostly make outfits for my poodles, with little hats and slippers."

I struggled to keep a straight face, but Hana smiled sweetly. "That sounds adorable!" she said.

Madeleine overheard us at this point, and glared at Penelope from across the room. "Are you honestly talking about your poodles again, Penelope? You shouldn't encourage her, Riley. It's embarrassing enough to have a lady-in-waiting obsessed with those ridiculous creatures."

Penelope looked like she was about to cry, and quickly turned back to the racks of clothes, studying them intently.

Hana looked pointedly at me, nodding towards Penelope while she moved to distract Madeleine. Once she was gone, I stepped towards Penelope. "Are you okay?" I asked quietly.

"Honestly? Not really." She didn't look at me as she spoke, rifling aimlessly through the dresses just to have something to do. "Talking about my poodles...I just miss them so much. I know it sounds silly, but they're my family. I wouldn't expect anyone else to understand. I...I had a lot of anxiety when I was younger."

I nodded, feeling my anger for Penelope fading into the background. "Help me understand, Penelope," I said, touching her shoulder softly. She finally turned to me, and we moved to a pair of overstuffed armchairs in an out-of-the-way corner.

When we were settled, Penelope finally spoke again. "I've been attending courtly functions since I was a child, but they still fill me with dread. I've never gotten used to the crowds, or all the scrutiny. I used to get panic attacks right before a big event. My parents thought a pet might help me stay calm."

I nodded. "That makes sense."

"That's when my parents got me my first poodles, Lancelot and Guinevere. They helped so much with the panic attacks, and...they were my best friends...and, well, I've had poodles ever since."

"Why don't you bring them to court with you?"

"I want that more than anything. But Madeleine forbids it. She says that it's undignified. And, I don't have the courage to tell her why I need them. So, I've been having a hard time again without them."

I frowned thoughtfully. "I had no idea things were so hard for you, Penelope. I'm sorry. I could talk to Madeleine for you, if you want."

"No!" Her volume surprised even her, and she cleared her throat, speaking her next words in a near-whisper. "Not right now, anyway. But thank you. I don't want her to know that there's something wrong with me."

That's it, I thought to myself, I officially can't be mad at this girl. To Penelope, I said. "There's nothing wrong with you, Penelope. Don't let anyone make you feel like there is."

I thought I might be able to ask her about the photographer, but Lancelin came to find us just then, announcing that it was almost time for the show to start. We headed out of the backstage area, losing each other in the crowd, so I would have to wait for another chance. I didn't get too much time to think about what I had learned, though, as I walked right into a mob of press. I discreetly slipped the earpiece in my ear, making sure Justin was there to help, then approached the first reporter with a big smile. "Donny," I said, as if I were greeting an old friend. "Nice to see you."

"And you, Lady Riley," he said, smiling back. Donny was one of the good ones. "Now, let me ask you. After your fall from grace, you disappeared into the Beaumont estate for some time. Now it seems you and Maxwell Beaumont are nearly inseparable. Why all the quality time?" I had to force myself not to let my smile falter. Donny was usually one of the good ones.

"They're looking for a gripping soundbyte," Justin told me through the earpiece. "Remember, don't play gossip roulette by letting them set the narrative. Take control of it."

I let myself chuckle as if his question were silly, which, let's face it, it was. "Lord Maxwell and Duke Beaumont have become like family to me. I was particularly eager to accompany Maxwell to today's event, since it means an opportunity to give back to the beautiful country that has become my home, thanks to the Beaumonts."

Donny grumbled a little, which Justin assured me meant that I did good. Finally, I made my way past the photographers and found Hana, who had been saving me a seat. We watched with rapt attention as model after model stomped down the runway, each wearing an outfit more lively than the last. After what felt like only a few minutes, the last model exited the stage and the lights came up.

"It's over?" I asked.

"It's intermission," Hana said. "Since it's a charity show, it's important to give people time to get out their pocketbooks." She smiled a little. "Social pressure may be the number one catalyst of philanthropy among the court."

"What I'm hearing is...peer pressure is a good thing?"

"Under the right circumstances." She glanced over my shoulder and smiled broadly. "Looks like you have a visitor. I think I'll make myself scarce for a few minutes."

As she scurried away, I turned to see Liam approaching. "Greetings, Lady Riley," he said with a formal bow.

"Your Majesty," I replied, curtseying.

Liam glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention to us, then took a tiny step closer. He lowered his voice slightly. "Before anyone is any the wiser," he said, "I'd like to extend an invitation to you."

I raised my eyebrow but said nothing, urging him to go on.

"When we first met," he said, "You had a list of places you'd like to visit. I'd like to help you check off one of those items tonight."

"You're taking me to Machu Picchu?" I teased.

Liam laughed, shaking his head. "Perhaps next time. I thought, since we are in Paris..."

"Oh," I said as if I were just now understanding him. "The Eiffel Tower!" I grinned as I looked up at him. "That would be lovely."

"I've always thought that the monuments people build show what they value most."

"Really? What does the Eiffel Tower say?"

Liam thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I'll leave that for you to decide. But I promise that the view of Paris at night is unforgettable. If you're interested, meet me after the fashion show."

I nodded, and as quickly as he came, Liam disappeared into the crowd. The lights began to dim as intermission ended, so I joined Hana back at our seats. The second half of the show seemed to drag on and on as I waited for the chance to abscond to the most romantic monument in the world.

Even as quickly as I dashed out of the venue at the end of the show, Liam still managed to beat me to the Eiffel Tower. He was waiting outside the elevator doors as my limo pulled up. Night had set in, but Liam hustled me into the elevator so we wouldn't be spotted. Once the elevator doors were closed, he pulled me close. "Ordinarily, they don't allow people up here after closing, but my family has earned some goodwill with the staff over the years. We should have about an hour to ourselves." The elevator dinged, and we stepped out onto the empty observation deck.

"What do you think?" Liam asked me as I gazed across the Parisian nightscape.

"It's...breathtaking!" I said, unable to pry my eyes away from the glimmering lights of the city below us. "I can't believe we get to be up here, all by ourselves. This is amazing!"

I felt Liam slip his arm around my waist and we both watched the city for a while in silence. Eventually, Liam spoke up again. "I've spent a lot of time thinking about the first night we met. How happy I was. How you called in every favor to show me the Statue of Liberty."

"Not every favor. Just most of the big ones. And...I may have had to fork over my night's tips to the boat driver."

Liam laughed. "Really?" I nodded, and he shook his head. "Not everyone would have done that for someone they'd just met."

"You're lucky you made a good first impression."

"I'm lucky I met you. That night meant a great deal to me, and every day it means more and more looking back on it. The least I could do to repay you is share my favorite place in the city."

I had been watching him talk, but looked back out at the city again. "I can see why. Have you been here a lot?"

"Quite a few times over the years, though usually on official business. Though...one time, my father promised he would take me to the Eiffel Tower, but got caught up in meetings with dignitaries. I waited for hours, but when I realized he wasn't going to make it, I decided to go by myself."

"How old were you?"

"About sixteen. I was pretty upset with my father, at first. But then...being up here, seeing the city and all its people spread out below...that was the first time I understood what it meant to be the king. When I look out, I see more than just the view and the lights...I see the people. Down there, the streets are bustling with so many lives. Men, women, children...all counting on their leaders to make just and wise decisions. I realized that even though my father had promised to come with me, as King, he had to put his duties first. Ever since that day, every time I've come to Paris, I've made it a point to visit and look out at the city."

"So...you must know the sights of Paris pretty well. Care to show me the highlights?"

"Oh! Of course, here," Liam guided me to a telescope on one side of the deck. He helped me find different sights around the city - the Louvre, Notre-Dame, Sacre Coeur Basilica. Then I noticed another landmark without any guidance. It was brightly lit even at night.

"Is that the Arc de Triomphe?" I asked, letting Liam look through the telescope.

"Good eye," he said. "It's an interesting part of French history." He stood and we both looked unaided towards the massive arch. "It was modeled after a triumphal arch in Rome. The French built it to commemorate those who died in the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars."

I frowned. "I never realized. That's kind of sad."

Liam nodded. "I know. This is the city of love, but so many of the monuments here were built to remember battles won or lost. History often overlooks times of peace in favor of which rulers fought in which wars for whatever reasons. Not that those moments are not worth honoring. Fighting is sometimes necessary. But to me, eras of peace were always the greater accomplishment. Those are the times when our citizens thrive. Those are the moments I'd want Cordonia to value...the moments I want to strive for during my rule."

God, serious King Liam was sexy.

"I wonder, Riley. What sort of monument would you build, if you had your choice?"

I raised my eyebrows, surprised by the question. Monuments show what people value most. So, Liam was asking me what I value most. "I would build...a monument to love. But, not just romantic love." I took Liam's hand and gave it a squeeze, "Although that's certainly an important part of it. But I would want people to remember that love comes in lots of forms. Family, friends, neighbors. There's a lot of love in the world to give and receive."

"That's beautiful, Riley." He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a gentle kiss. "You are the most loving person I've ever known, so I think that's a perfect monument for you."

I shook my head, pulling back a little so I could look out at the city again. "That's enough serious talk," I said. "Tell me something...what was the most ridiculous part of your day?"

Liam grinned. "Oh, that would have to be Adelaide's escargot malfunction."

"Escargot malfunction?"

For the next few minutes, we laughed and talked, feeling lighter than we had in days, possibly weeks. Finally, Liam looked at his watch and sighed. "We've been up here for over an hour. We really should be going."

I nodded and reached up to give him a lingering kiss before we headed down to my waiting limo.

When I got back to the train, I was still in a little bit of a romantic haze, so I was startled to see Hana outside my room.

"There you are," she said, "I was starting to worry."

"Sorry," I said hastily, explaining about my trip with Liam.

"That sounds wonderful," Hana said, "I'm glad you two could find some time to spend together. I just wanted to see if you could use some help talking to Penelope again. I think between the two of us, we could get her to open up about the pictures."

I nodded. "You're right. And we should probably do it sooner rather than later. Do you know where her room is?" Hana nodded and led me to Penelope's sleeping car. With bated breath, I knocked on her door, and she quickly opened it, surprised but smiling when she saw Hana and I.

"Come in," she said. "I didn't expect to see anyone else tonight. I must look a mess." She nervously patted her hair, but of course she looked as gorgeous as always, and we told her so.

"We wanted to talk to you privately," I said, glancing at Hana for support.

"What about?"

"About...why you set me up."

Penelope looked confused, then horrified as she registered my words. "You know?"

"We do," Hana said, "And we just want to understand."

"Oh, Riley, I never wanted to hurt you!" Penelope sat on her bed, wringing her hands, looking like she was ready to burst into tears.

"After talking with you today, I understand how hard court has been for you," I told her. "So, I want to believe that you only did it out of desperation, but I...I'm shocked, and hurt, Penelope. You must understand that."

"I do, and I'm so sorry Riley."

"Please, just tell us the whole story," Hana asked. Her voice was gentle, but serious.

Penelope took a deep breath, nodding. "It was clear that I wasn't in the running for the Prince's choice, and I...I was just desperate. I didn't want to disappoint my parents, or leave court a failure. I was promised a place in Madeleine's court if I hired a photographer and got Tariq to your room."

"Who promised you?" I asked.

Penelope's voice was strained, but her words were undoubtedly the truth. She looked straight into my eyes and squeaked, "Bastien."

"Bastien...as in...the King's Guard?"

Penelope nodded.

I was too stunned to say anything, so Hana thanked Penelope and assured her that we wouldn't hold this against her. Then Hana practically dragged me out of the room. I didn't say anything until we were back in my own room. "Bastien?" I asked, looking at Hana helplessly.

"Why would he care if Madeleine was Queen?" Hana asked, more to herself than to me. She turned to look at me, eyes full of worry. "Are you going to be okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah...I just...I just need a good night's sleep."

Hana hugged me tightly, then said good night, and I lay in bed for a few hours trying to make sense of my life before I finally drifted to sleep. The next day, I had to drag myself out of bed, and without Maxwell's help. There were no events scheduled for the day, and he had already warned me he'd be MIA visiting some old friends. I wasn't sure what I was going to do that day, but I knew I couldn't just stew in my cabin. Not since finding out that Liam's own bodyguard was in on this conspiracy against me!

Thankfully, I found Drake before I left the train.

"You okay?" he asked, seeing my frustration as I marched toward him.

I sighed. "Yeah...I should probably catch you up." We were in the dining car, so I motioned towards a table, and we took a seat. Drake grabbed us each a cup of coffee before motioning for me to continue. "I got Penelope to confess to hiring the photographer."

"That's great," he said cheerily, making my stomach sink even lower.

"Except...she said she was put up to it. She was promised a place in Madeleine's court, if she helped sabotage me."

"Who promised her that?"

I took another long breath, then a long sip of coffee just for good measure. Finally, I said quietly, "Bastien."

Drake opened his mouth, but said nothing. He shook his head. Finally, he managed to spit out, "Bastien? Our Bastien?"

I nodded and reached across the table for his hand. "I know this must be hard for you, with how close you and Bastien are..."

Drake let his head drop so he was staring at the table. "Damn. I can't believe it. Are you sure we can trust Penelope's word?" He looked up with puppy dog eyes, desperately searching for a reason to disregard this new information.

"I'm sorry, Drake, but I believe she's telling the truth."

Drake nodded, as if he knew it before I had said it.

"So...we should probably find Bastien and talk to him," I said, watching Drake carefully. He nodded.

"He'll be busy with Liam all day today, there's press conferences and diplomatic meetings scheduled all over the city. But Liam's bachelor party is tomorrow. We could probably get Bastien alone there."

"So I guess I'm crashing another one of Liam's bachelor parties?" I gave a small smile, which I was happy to see Drake return.

"Until then," he said, "I was actually coming to find you for something else. Remember when we were cleaning Maxwell's house and we found that envelope of cash?"

"Of course."

"It had an address on it. From Paris."

I perked up. "You want to go to the address and see where the money was being sent?"

"Yeah. I mean, it might not have to do with your investigation, but there's still something going on there. And I'd like to find out what. You in?"

"Sure, sounds good."

One taxi ride later, we stood outside a nondescript door on the third floor of an apartment building somewhere on the outskirts of Paris. "It looks like an ordinary apartment to me," I said.

"So far. Here we go," Drake said, knocking on the door. He shifted a little as we waited for an answer. Finally, a young brunette woman answered the door. Her jaw dropped when she saw us.

"Drake!" she yelped, and then she pulled Drake by the arm into the apartment. Confused, I followed, shutting the door behind me.

"Savannah?" Drake sputtered, and it finally clicked in my head. This was Drake's sister, the one who had disappeared from court. But what did she have to do with the Beaumonts?

As if to answer my question, Maxwell appeared from a back room in the apartment. "Who was at the door?" he asked, stopping in his tracks and looking very guilty when he saw Drake and me. "Oh! Uh...hey, guys...what's up?"

"Maxwell?" Drake spat angrily. In an attempt to keep Drake from flying off the handle, I grabbed his hand and held on tight.

"Drake, I-" Savannah started, but she was cut off by a shrill cry from the other room. A baby's cry. "Oh, hold on, Bartie, mama's coming," she said, leaving Maxwell alone with me and Drake for a minute.

Mama? Things were falling into place all at once, and I grasped Drake's hand with both of my own now, as if holding on for dear life.

"So, uh...anyone want some...tea?" Maxwell asked, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable and willing Savannah to hurry back.

Thankfully, she was quick, and as she returned to the room, she had a baby - less than a year old, if I had to guess - with her. He was tan with dark hair just like Savannah, but with bright blue eyes unlike either Walker sibling.

"Breathe, Drake," I whispered. "Be calm. For Savannah." He didn't look at me, but he nodded as his eyes followed Savannah and the baby to the kitchen, where Savannah started heating up a bottle.

"I shouldn't be here," Drake whispered to me. "Savannah doesn't want to see me."

"That's ridiculous," I told him. "You don't know that."

He shook his head, and started pulling me with him towards the hallway. As the door slammed shut behind us, I dug in my heels. We were still holding hands, and when I stopped moving forwards, Drake turned to look at me with pleading eyes. I gave him a look that said, No Way. "Drake," I said aloud. "At least talk to her. If she really doesn't want you here, she'll tell you. But I think we both know, that's not the case."

"She could have called me any time," he argued, though it was a lame argument and he knew it.

"She was pregnant, Drake. Savannah was probably worried you'd be angry or disappointed with her. Leaving now will only confirm her fears."

Finally, Drake nodded and turned back to the apartment. I let him enter first and trailed in just behind him, staying near the door. Savannah rushed up to Drake, Bartie sitting on her hip, and threw an arm around her brother. "Oh, Drake, I'm so sorry. Thank you for not leaving."

"Really?" Drake asked, still sounding surprised. "I thought you didn't want to see me."

"That's not true. That was never true! I just...I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to make your life at court harder."

"Savannah, you should have known I don't care about that half as much as I care about you!"

"I do now. Or...I think I always did. It was just...I didn't know what you'd think." She shifted uncomfortably, looking down at the baby with a frown of worry. Slowly, it shifted into a gentle smile. After a long silence, Savannah continued, looking back at Drake, "But now that you're here...do you want to meet your nephew?"

Drake glanced back at me, and I gave him an encouraging smile. Savannah shoved Bartie into Drake's arms, and laughed as Drake held the baby like it was a bomb about to go off. "Here," she said, showing Drake how to properly hold Bartie, and the baby giggled up at Drake, making Drake smile softly.

He cleared his throat suddenly. "Don't think you're off the hook, just because I'm holding this little guy. You still have a lot of questions to answer."

Savannah nodded, motioning to the couch, and they sat down. "I'm ready to answer them," she said. I stayed in the kitchen, near the door, unsure of my place in this family drama. It was a small apartment, so I was still close enough to hear the conversation as I leaned against the kitchen counter near the sink.

"Let's start with...what happened? When you left, I mean."

Savannah filled Drake in on the whole story, from her tryst with Bertrand (okay, who saw THAT coming? I would have bet my entire wardrobe that Maxwell was the father) to the way he had broken her heart, and how she had left without telling Bertrand she was pregnant.

"And that's where I come in," Maxwell said. He had found Savannah leaving the Beaumont house crying, and had gotten the whole story out of her. He had insisted on sending money and helping Savannah and Bartie in any way possible. Including keeping Savannah's secret from Drake and Bertrand.

"I'm sorry I shut you out, Drake," Savannah said at last.

Drake had calmed down by this point - probably in no small part due to the fact that he was holding a happy, burbling Bartie the whole time. He shook his head at his sister. "I'm just happy to be here for you both now."

Savannah moved to give her big brother a long hug. Afterwards, she looked towards me in the kitchen. She stood, motioning me over, and pulled me into a hug as I met her halfway. "You must be Riley," she said as we pulled apart. "Maxwell's told me so much about you, I feel as if we're friends already."

Savannah dragged me to the living room and sat me down next to Drake. After a little more catching up, Drake noticed the time. "We should probably get going before anyone notices Riley is missing."

Savannah smiled sadly. "Yeah, we wouldn't want Bertrand to get curious and show up here."

With lots of promises to call and visit, Drake and I left with Maxwell in tow. To his credit, Drake waited until we were safely in the limo before he turned on Maxwell. "How could you?" he shouted. "You knew how worried I was about Savannah, and you said nothing!"

Maxwell looked terrified. "I wanted to tell you, so many times, Drake. But it wasn't my secret to tell."

Drake settled into a desultory silence while we drove back to the train. After the long, awkward silence of the ride, we all quickly parted ways and I hoped that at least one relationship would survive this blasted engagement tour.