The gymnasium was suffocating. Music pounded, lights flashed, and Enid spun in her shimmering dress as if the world revolved around her. Bruno grinned at her side, but Wednesday saw the truth in his eyes. He was bored. He was planning his exit.

Wednesday sat alone, chewing on the cockroach Pugsley had given her. The crunch was satisfying. It reminded her of bones snapping. She swallowed, stood, and walked across the floor. Her black gown dragged behind her, a streak of shadow cutting through the neon chaos.

“Bruno,” she said. Her voice was flat. He flinched. Enid smiled, oblivious.

“Wen. You made it.” Enid grabbed her arm. Wednesday did not look at her.

“You are unworthy of her.”

Enid laughed nervously. Bruno’s smile disappeared. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is that you exist,” Wednesday said. “You are untrustworthy. I can smell deceit on you. You already have someone else waiting at home. Do not deny it. I would rather not waste time forcing the confession out of you.”

Enid blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Bruno stammered. His words tangled. Wednesday stared at him without blinking. “Pathetic. You cannot even lie convincingly.”

Enid’s face fell. She pulled her hand away from him and ran. Wednesday watched her go. Bruno tried to speak again. She turned her gaze on him and he stopped. “Disappear,” she said. He did.

Outside, Enid sat on the steps, tears running down her cheeks. Wednesday joined her. The air was cold. The silence stretched.

“Why do you always ruin things?” Enid whispered.

“I do not ruin. I expose. You deserve better than a coward who cheats.”

Enid looked at her with shining eyes. “And who decides what’s better?”

“I do,” Wednesday said without hesitation.

Enid gave a shaky laugh, half anger, half relief. Wednesday pulled another cockroach from her pocket and held it out. “Eat,” she said.

Enid shoved her shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“Yes,” Wednesday replied. She dropped the insect into her mouth and chewed. Enid leaned against her shoulder anyway.

Wednesday allowed it.