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Alice was lost for words. “You’re inviting me out to…party?” She had to check, just to be sure of Ella’s nerve.

“We’ll talk more later,” Ella promised brightly, then she snapped her fingers, struck with a new idea that, of course, had nothing to do with her guilty conscience and the trail of lies she’d left in her wake. “Call Rupert, and have him come too. There are always all sorts of producers and casting people buzzing around Chris,” she added with a sage nod, as if she were already the agent she’d apparently been claiming. “It could be a great chance for him to meet people, start making himself known.”

“Ella!”

Only moments ago, she’d been talking fearfully about prison, and now she wanted to go lounge around with movie stars? Alice couldn’t believe the nonchalance.

“What?” Ella caught Alice’s expression, quickly adjusting her own enthusiasm down to a more serious tone. “I know, we still have lots to talk about, but it’s hardly as if I’m going to bolt now. This could be a great chance for Rupert, and you too.” She added, getting to her feet.

“You stole my identity,” Alice said slowly. “They all think you’re me.”

“No, they think I’m Angelique, and you’re Alice. Simple.” Ella waited, expectant.

“Rupert knows that’s my name, remember?”

Ella shrugged. “So it’s a huge a coincidence! Our mothers must have been reading the same pretentious novels; it’s easily explained.” She bounced on the spot. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

Alice was still trying to understand this sudden switch when she looked up, catching the briefest look of desperation skitter across Ella’s face. Then she understood, Ella was still absolutely terrified. Of discovery, of the police, of having her golden little world here pulled apart—everything that Alice could do so easily, with just a single phone call. No wonder she was trying so hard to drag her off to the VIP section, Alice realized. She probably hoped that if she dazzled her with A-list friends and a riot of fun, Alice could be persuaded not to give her up.

“All right,” Alice decided. It was reassuring to know that she still had some small measure of power over Ella. And it was true, a part of her was curious to see this new life of hers up close. She got to her feet and gazed at Ella carefully. “But we talk more later.”

“Absolutely,” Ella vowed. “It’s going to be fun, I promise!”

Alice was wound too tight with caution to enjoy herself, but as she lounged in the dim VIP section of an ultra-cool club, watching as Ella laughed and joked with Chris and his surprisingly genuine group of friends, she had to admit, it wasn’t entirely bad. Seeing Ella in her element like this was almost reassuring. She seemed, to Alice, to be exactly the same person she’d been back in England, albeit with a different name, and new stories to tell her accomplished acquaintances. Ella, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so relaxed: her gaze flicking over to Alice every few minutes, anxious, as if she expected her to stand up and denounce her as an imposter at any second.

“What did you say your friend’s name was?” Rupert leaned over, raising his voice to be heard over the DJ’s eclectic mix of hip-hop and Broadway show tunes.

Alice paused. “Angela,” she said, deliberately muddying the word with a sip from her exquisite cocktail.

“Oh, great! She seems nice!” Rupert looked around, unable to keep the joyful expression from his face. He’d hit it off with Chris almost straight away, the pair of them diving into debate over some British comedy show, and soon, Chris had been suggesting to Perry (his manager) and Cleo (one of his battalion of agents) that they set Rupert up with an audition for his upcoming vampire-versus-zombie apocalypse movie sequel.

Rupert pushed back his flop of fringe. “Did I say thank you enough already?”

Alice laughed, glad of his presence in the midst of all this uncertainty—a reminder of something honest. “It was only a drinks invite. Besides, I wanted to see you while I was in town. This time,” she added quickly.

He shook his head. “It’s not