Page 158 of Wicked Brutal

“You love Swiss chocolate.”

“Not anymore. Sanctions.”

I snort. “Sanctions?”

“Immediate and devastating.”

“Against chocolate.”

“And watches.”

Ally wipes beneath one eye. “You don’t even wear a watch.”

“Exactly. Their economy is already crumbling.”

I shake my head. “Little Miss International Relations over here starting a trade war.”

Becca looks at me. “I prefer targeted economic pressure.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“You’re welcome.”

For maybe ten seconds, the room feels normal again. Then Ally looks down at the paperwork. The smile fades. “Ryan.”

“Yeah?”

“What if this is why Victor wanted lunch yesterday? What if Dad wasn’t deciding anything?” she continues. “What if it was already decided?” Becca goes still. Ally looks at me. “What if yesterday wasn’t about whether Victor wanted to marry me?” My stomach turns. “What if it was about what happens between now and June?”

There it is. The question we can’t answer in this room. Not yet.

I pick up my phone and look at the school name again. L’Institut Sainte-Catherine. Vevey, Switzerland. Roman had an entire folder prepared before he walked into Edgewood this morning. This wasn’t impulsive. It wasn’t punishment for Ally getting mouthy at lunch yesterday. It wasn’t a father deciding overnight that he disliked his daughter’s friends. The paperwork alone proves that. Whatever Switzerland is — Roman has been planning it.

And yesterday, Victor Tremblay sat beside my girlfriend with his hand on her knee, discussed their wedding, discussed the children he expects her to give him, and then boarded a private plane with Roman. Today Roman walked into Edgewood and started the process of removing Ally from the country.

I look at her. “We’re going to figure out why.”

Her eyes stay on mine. “And if we don’t like the answer?”

I pick up my phone. Around us, nine people are already waiting for the next instruction. Arthur has the paperwork. Dad has the paperwork. Roman has no fucking idea any of us know. “Then we become a much bigger problem.”

And for the first time since Penny sent that text at lunch, Ally smiles.

By four thirty, Arthur’s dining-room table has disappeared beneath paper. Every page I photographed at Edgewood has been printed. Some twice. Arthur has two laptops open, Mom has one, and there are legal pads, coffee cups, phones, and folders spread between them. Nobody has gone home to change. Nobody has asked how long this is going to take. Arthur called, and everybody came.

Callum and Saoirse. Thomas. Kaid and Cat. Gideon, Alice, Penny, and X. Clifford, Louise, Delilah, Danny, and Becca. Theodore and Katya. Mom and Dad. Darla and Iz. And me.

Ally is the only one who isn’t here. She went home after school because that’s what she’s supposed to do. Pretend. Pretend she didn’t see Roman at Edgewood this morning. Pretend she doesn’t know he signed paperwork withdrawing her. Pretend April sixth means nothing to her. Pretend she isn’t being sent to Switzerland.

My phone vibrates against the table.

Ally: Tobias says broccoli isn’t food because it’s a tree

I stare at the message. Across from me, Arthur is opening another file.

he’s right

Ally: no he isn’t