Twenty-OnePania slept badly, and the last thing she felt like doing on a Monday morning was going to a frock-fitting session at Cressida Washington’s. As she tossed and turned she tried to decipher the riddle of Ngo Wai’s ruthless murder. What had anyone to gain by slaughtering a frightened girl? Was this some convoluted revenge killing, a merciless warning to Black Dragon families who were resisting Ji Zeng, or was it a personal message directed at her? If it was the latter, at what cost? Had Ngo Wai even told her anything important?
She lay awake at Stockton House, hearing the quiet murmurings in the hallways and kitchen from the household’s early risers. High-pitched childish giggles floated from the kitchen. Minette pestering the cook for a cookie, no doubt. Everything seemed so norma
