ALL MY THOUGHTS HAVE BEEN helplessly scrambled since meeting Carter Murdoch.

Ironic, considering the purpose of the guided tour was to relieve some fear about my future. Learning that he's Madison's brother reversed all the feelings of preparedness I previously felt. On top of the stress caused by the Monarchy, the fast-approaching exams and general trepidation towards growing up, I'm not sure I can survive the week without unravelling.

"Whoa. What's got you wound up so tightly?" Leah asks me after I accidentally slammed my locker with excessive force.

I sigh. "Sorry. Just have a lot on my mind. I went on a tour to Halston on Saturday, and I met this tour guide. Carter."

"Yeah? What about him?

Glancing around discreetly, I drop my voice, "He's Madison's brother."

"Small world."

"Okay, but— he was super nice, and he's deaf. I just can't reconcile someone so considerate being related to Madison. Does he even know how vile Madison is to the student body? He seemed oblivious to his sweet little being a bully. And no-one even seems to know about his existence, which I find so odd because he was a student here."

"Why don't you just ask Madison?"

"Yeah, right, and have her bite my head off? I think not."

Leah nods, sucking her cheeks into the hollows of her jaw as she ponders the situation. "Maybe it wouldn't be so terrible. I mean, you don't have Carter's details or anything, but Madison probably doesn't know that. She might play nice if you make it seem like you could contact Carter and tell him everything about the Monarchy, which then would get her in major trouble at home."

"Goddamn it. This is going to ruin my day."

Talking to Monarchs doesn't usually bother me this much, but Madison is so behaviourally similar to Brittany that I'm feeling a little unnerved. Each time I've encountered her in the past, I've left with anger brimming and an urge to fix myself in a mirror. They are both so porcelain perfect I often feel inadequate in comparison.

"Well, if there's anyone ballsy enough to send on reconnaissance, it's you." Leah points down the corridor, "She's over there right now. Go get 'em. I'll make an excuse for you being late to Mr. Quesnel."

Speak of the devil. I pout annoyedly, Leah prodding my reluctant self along the corridor to make sure I don't miss Madison. Somehow, as soon as I am in Madison's path, Leah vanishes. She's nowhere to be seen, even when I pick the crowd for her face.

Fuck. I step into Madison's way, forcing the words out before I can talk myself out of it.

"I met your brother." In case she has more than one brother, I add, "Carter."

Like I just slapped her, Madison halts in her tracks. Her eyes widen in shock and slight anger, mouth open in a small gape. How still she's become is almost comical. I'm tempted to tell her to smile lest the wind changes. Then, she snaps back into action, gripping my forearm tightly and dragging me over to a drinking fountain, where the traffic is not so heavy.

In relative privacy, she drops my wrist. "How did you meet him?"

I'm taken aback by the tone of her voice. Had someone told me they know Luke, I wouldn't care at all. Why does this affect her so? "Uh... he was a tour guide when I visited Halston University."

"And, did he, ahem, tell you?" Madison asks mutedly. I think she's referring to Carter's hearing impairment.

However, I can't verify it as she is busy turning her shoulders away and covering her lips with her glossy fingernails. Her attempts at trying to appear uninvolved with me are blatant, making me wonder what she is trying to hide. "Yes. He did. Are you okay? You seem tense."

Madison snaps, "I'm fine."

"I believe you," I appease. "But your defensiveness makes me think you don't like talking about him or his impairment. Why is that? Are you trying to hide him away or something?"

"Don't be stupid. My brother and I just aren't close. Forgive me if talking about him to an entitled beggar like you doesn't bring me joy. Now, I have to get to class."

At that, I have to question her motives. The class Madison has now is Music, which I share with her. Considering her musical talents only just encircle making supernaturally seamless TikToks — and the frustration it has caused her in theory pop quizzes, composition assignments and aural exams in general throughout the year — I find it odd that she is in such a rush. Also, the caginess in her eyes can't only be due to the mention of a sibling.

With a flustered sigh, Madison pushes past me, adjusting the strap of her pink, miniature messenger bag as she goes.

Something isn't right here. I could be digging for treasure in completely the wrong location, but if I don't pursue what could be the clue that leads to Madison's secret, I might not get another chance.

No-one looking at her commanding presence on social media and illustrative posts would peg Madison to be particularly concerned with her privacy, but she is a private person. She dazzles the masses with glamourous party posts and makeup selfies in such a seemingly innocuous way that they forget to question her family life, her skills, her interests.

Everyone knows her name, but not her story. Cliche as that saying is.

"Well, I guess if you won't talk about him—" Madison's shoulders tense imperceptibly, her heels digging into the floor. "I'll have to ask around about Carter."

If my hunch is correct, Carter is a soft spot in her iron skin, the chink in her armour. Madison would do anything to stop me asking other people about him, thus spreading his name through the school like wildfire. Even if it means telling me herself.

Madison's smart. She knows I know.

"Fine," she grits her teeth, "I will tell you about him. But if anyone, anywhere utters a single whisper about it, I will know you blabbed, and I will come for you."

"Naturally."

She scowls. "Everywhere Carter went after he first lost his hearing, he brought pity with him. Puppy eyes, I'm-so-sorries, tons of sympathy food. I was fine with it, until he was in junior year of high school, and my friends started looking at me like I was weak. Like it was a family trait."

Madison's hand flies pointedly to her chest, as if to exaggerate the complete madness of thinking her weak. "You know, middle school girls are so bitchy. The most uppity, conceited things ever—"

I roll my eyes. "You can talk."

"—maybe it's why I am the way I am now," Madison ignores my words, determined to steamroll through this and be done with it. "He had no idea either way what people were saying. Whether I was bullied or not. Whether I was a bully or not. When I was a freshman here, and he was a senior, I would get catcalled and harassed by upperclassmen right behind his back. Literally. It was a game to see who could say the most perverted things to me without him noticing — and the game never ended, because he never noticed. He still has no idea."

"Oh, Madison..."

She holds up a perfectly manicured finger. "Save your pity. It lasted only one semester. Brittany stepped in to bat for me. She planted a few 'plagiarised' tests, took down a couple of people for paying someone else to write their essays. Got her footballer boyfriends to beat up anyone that touched me. Yes, it was bullying, but because of that I trusted her to look after me. I had a lot of anger and hurt about what happened, and it was misdirected at Carter."

I nod, indicating I understand. Indicating that I'm not judging her. She continues, "When we messaged, I vented a lot of untrue, nasty things about him to her. I resented him so much for his disability, and part of me still does. Then I found out that Brittany recorded everything. She has screenshots of me saying... horrible things about Carter, and it would destroy our family if she sent them to him. Destroy him."

Oh. Madison is looking out for her brother the best way she sees fit. I can imagine the sort of things she might say. She's said scathing things to me, and I'm only a random schoolmate of hers. The things she might say about a person she knows intimately, when enraged and devastated, would be far worse than worse.

"And I'm only telling you now because there's no point. The year is almost over, there's no time for anything to change. Brittany will go down in history as Queen B, I as her second-in-command, and you as the deluded attention-seeker that tried and failed to knock us down. It's all set in stone. My advice," Madison leans closer, dragging her rosehip perfume into my personal space, "Don't waste anymore of your breath."

Holding herself proudly, Madison strolls off towards Music. There's no sign of her having been upset or agitated mere moments before — wish I could say that for myself. I am left with an oncoming headache throbbing ominously in my periphery, a sinking despair for the Revolution, and the scent of rosehip wafting in the air.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

If not for grilled cheese sandwiches and Delaney propping me up over these last three weeks, I would have long since dissolved into a puddle of weeping despair at the thought of our oncoming AP exams. I have set high goals for myself, and the ideal situation is skipping the mandatory intro courses next year. Gives me more leeway to try things and finally settle on a major.

These two things have proved vital in my studying. The grilled cheeses are a simple-to-prepare, filling meal that fuels my late-night cram sessions. And Delaney, well, I never expected that she'd be my anchor during this whole ordeal.

Her brazen honesty has been just the breath of fresh air I need at times to keep me focused. "Girl, I'm going to bitch-slap you the next time I see you."

Even if it's harsh sometimes.

"I know, I know. I am sorry."

"Hm, I bet you are." Delaney's stern face looks up at me from my laptop screen as we video call. "But that doesn't change the fact you skipped out on our study session. Where were you at lunchtime?"

Just the question I was hoping to avoid. "I got a really bad cramp and had to go to the nurse's office for some ibuprofen," I rattle off without pause, hoping her keen perception won't sense the lie.

"Who gave you the ibuprofen?"

"Mrs. Stell did, as usual."

"Mrs. Stell doesn't come on Mondays and Tuesdays, Sophie. It's Miss Greer. So, where were you really?" she asks shrewdly.

"Okay, fine." Defeated, I sigh, "I was trying to find Terrence. After talking to Madison, his secret is the only one we need before we can take down the Monarchy."

"I didn't really know if Mrs. Stell was here or not, by the way. But I knew you were lying."

"Such trust," I drawl sarcastically.

"Well, I wouldn't be on your back like this if it wasn't important. What's next Thursday?"

"The AP English final."

Delaney adopts a lilting sing-song voice, "I can't hear you. What's next Thursday?"

"Jeez, I get it! AP English final!" I exclaim in frustration. As if I could forget.

"Exactly. So, as obsessed with Terrence as you are—"

"—I'm not obsessed with Terrence—"

"—your exams take precedence. Stay focused, Soph," Delaney pleads. "I can't get through another of Mr. Williams' tutorials without you or I'll blow my brains out."

Huffing in frustration, I relent and promise to attend all the future sessions. She presents an infallible argument, one to which under usual conditions I would wholly agree. But I just cannot get the Revolution off my mind.

It's not for lack of trying, either. I've tried playing study soundtracks, keeping a study journal, meditating, even drinking a special herbal tea I went into town to get. Although the trip itself might have been an attempt at procrastination.

Alas, the longest consecutive study session I've had without obsessing over the Monarchy is about an hour. It's only because the end goal is so tantalisingly near. I can smell it like the faint brine in the air near the sea. With Derek, Reece and Madison having confided in me about the secret Brittany holds over them, Terrence is the only person that stands between us and the end of such a tyrannical reign.

As a result, since talking to Madison about Carter, my spare time has been spent wondering either how to find out Terrence's secret, or what it actually might be.

"I heard Madison threatened to run you out of school if you told anyone what her secret was," Delaney's voice calls me back to reality. "So, naturally, you should tell everyone what it is. Or me, at least."

I chuckle at that, recalling the determined malice that flickered threateningly in Madison's eyes during the encounter. "I can't remember what she actually said, but I don't want to risk it."

"Ugh, you're no fun."

"I fully agree. Besides, most of—" Thinking back to the moments where each of the Monarchs revealed their weaknesses to me, Derek's music students, Reece and Madison's siblings, I amend my statement, "—all of their secrets, actually, aren't that scandalous. They're just deeply personal, is all."

"Damn. So we can't unleash them in a four-fold attack against the Monarchy that will create enough contention to knock them from their positions of power?"

"Unfortunately not."

Her sigh comes through the line tinny and rustling. "Okay, then. I'd very much like them to get a painful, painful comeuppance, but I trust your judgement." It's such a turnaround to hear Delaney put her trust in me, considering the argument we got into a month ago. My heart warms, and my pulse relaxes slightly.

"You might think I'm crazy, but under the glamour they're actually quite sensitive."

"I do think you're crazy. Good crazy, though."

The thought of using excessive cruelty to win the Revolution brings a frown to my face. I don't know why. I would have even less of a clue how to explain the feeling to Delaney. With my manipulation and pretense with the Monarchs to gain their trust, I know I am toeing recklessly toeing a line between a means to an end and blatant hypocrisy.

But it's too late for me to change tactics. This is the path I have to walk, whether it leads to heaven or hell.