“But screw your courage to the sticking place, and we’ll not fail,” she recited. It was from the speech where Lady Macbeth convinces her husband to kill Duncan, the king. “When Duncan is asleep, whereto the rather shall his day’s hard journey . . .”Then her mind went blank. What came after that?She shifted into park. This was infuriating. She’d mastered all the lines of The Taming of the Shrew in tenth grade when she was studying for the PSATs, volunteering for the Rosewood soup kitchen, playing field hockey, and juggling six honors classes. As much as she loathed giving Beau the satisfaction of coaching her tomorrow, maybe she needed it.Inhaling a chakra-cleansing, yoga-fire breath, she pulled her Madewell duffel coat around her and grabbed her gold Dior handbag from the passenger seat, a gift she’d gotten herself for getting into Princeton. When she slipped out of the car, she nearly collided with a black Range Rover parked off to the left. She scowled at its shiny chrome wheels, souped-up navigation console, and cheery bumper sticker on the back that proclaimed PROUD PARENT OF A ST.
