“We have to find one of the tunnels,” I whisper to Alexei. “We have to get you out of here.”

“Out of where?” he asks, spinning me to face him.

“I think we’re back on the mainland. I bet this leads to one of the tunnels. From here, we can get you to Iran then back up into the hills.”

I try to pull away, but Alexei holds me steady. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Alexei, I can’t —”

“Wait.” Alexei leans close to my ear. “Someone’s coming.”

The corridor branches up ahead, twisting into shadow and out of sight, and that is where Alexei pulls me. He presses me into the corner and squeezes in beside me, the two of us huddling together in the darkness.

Voices carry in these long stone halls. Footsteps echo. So I hear them long before I see them. And judging by the look in Alexei’s eyes, there’s no doubt he hears them, too. He’s listening to every word.

“The girl is a problem.” The woman’s voice is faint but familiar.

“The girl is a child!”

The second woman is Ms. Chancellor, I’m sure of it. And as the two women come into view around the corner, Alexei and I squeeze farther into the shadows, and I realize why the other voice sounds so familiar.

Here, deep beneath the city, the acting prime minister’s accent is a bit thicker. Her tone a little more severe. She isn’t trying to charm the US ambassador into making her problems go away. No. She’s arguing with the woman who, two days ago, she treated like a virtual stranger.

They were lying. Of course they were lying. For three years, people lied to me about what happened to my mom. About what I did. About who really, truly was to blame. And they’re still lying. My whole life is a game of make-believe and no one has ever had the courtesy to tell me.

I’m tired of everyone talking about me, worrying about me, lying about me. I’m just so tired.

I lean against Alexei.

“She was interested, but I talked to her, and I believe she will move on now. We have no reason to believe that she’ll cause a problem,” Ms. Chancellor says.

“No,” Prime Minister Petrovic corrects her. “The American boy was interested. Caroline was obsessed. And her daughter will become obsessed, too. She won’t stop her digging, you know.”

“Let her dig.” I can practically hear Ms. Chancellor’s impatience. “What harm will it do?”

“I don’t know, Eleanor. What harm did it do Caroline?”

It’s not a question. It’s a threat. I can hear it in the woman’s tone. I can feel it in the silence that follows. Alexei’s arms tighten around me, and when I start to shake, his hands steady me. Is this rage or terror that I’m feeling? I don’t know.

I don’t know anything.

My blood is pounding so hard I almost miss the sound of Ms. Chancellor’s high heels clicking across the stone floor, walking away.

“What is this place?” I can feel Alexei’s breath on my skin. I know he’s right beside me, and yet he feels a million miles away. “Grace, what is all this?”

Slowly, I shake my head. A fog fills my mind. “Honestly? I have no idea.”

It’s maybe the most truthful thing I’ve said in weeks.

“Come on,” Alexei says, taking my hand again and leading me in the direction Ms. Chancellor disappeared.

It’s not the way she brought me. This must be the back door, but that’s okay. In fact, it’s better. Alexei and I creep silently behind her, far enough back that she likely won’t hear us, but close enough that I can still hear the clicking of her high heels.

Eventually, though, the clicking stops. And from a distance I see her go through a large door and into one of the tunnels. I know that’s our way out.

“Was that your grandfather’s chief of staff?” Alexei asks. I try to meet his gaze. “Gracie, what aren’t you telling me?”

He doesn’t sound angry; he sounds afraid, and I can’t blame him. If I had good sense — if I were a normal girl — I’d be terrified right now, but fear is a luxury I no longer have.

I want Alexei to be okay. I want Spence’s killer found and for Jamie to be able to rest. But I’m not concerned for myself anymore. I learned a long time ago that there’s really not much use in that. I’m far too lost for saving.

But it’s not too late for Alexei, so I open the exit and listen. The sound of Ms. Chancellor’s heels are fading into nothing, so I grab Alexei’s hand and start dragging him down the tunnel that lies beneath Valancia’s streets.

“Gracie!” Alexei pulls me to a stop. “Do you know who that was?”

Slowly, almost numbly, I nod. But I don’t tell him that the woman Ms. Chancellor was talking to is currently the most powerful politician in Adria. I don’t dare mention that the reason that she has the job is because Ms. Chancellor shot her predecessor, or that the world is living a lie. I don’t want to say the words society or conspiracy or treasure. No. I’m not going to give anyone else any more reason to think I’m crazy, because I know how it sounds — I know how it feels. And right now I don’t know which is more dangerous: what Ms. Chancellor did to protect me, or what these women might do to protect something else.

I won’t tell Alexei any of the things I can’t figure out, so I just stand there. Because when you can’t lie, sometimes that means you can’t say anything at all.