Grace swallowed at that comment, but Lillie rushed on, not noticing. “Yes. Something beyond myself, and this circle that feels so suffocating sometimes, everyone curved in on themselves so that we’ve become something ghastly.”
She finally caught the look on Grace’s face. “Oh, darling. Grace. I know that expression. Of course I’m not speaking of you.”
“Youhavealways looked out for the charity cases,” Grace said. She tried to laugh, but it came out brittle.
“I’ve never once thought of you that way,” Lillie exclaimed, jumping to take Grace by the arm. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Lillie. It’s all right. You aren’t going to have to pull me along anymore, like a piece of dead weight,” Grace looked out at the paved stone streets of the city, the trolleys and electric streetlights. “We’re getting too old for it. It makes me feel ridiculous, and I think we have to face reality—”
“Don’t say that,” Lillie said, her alarm growing. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that this has to be the end,” Grace said, tears springing to her eyes. “This week, this last, glorious week. I can’t do this anymore, and it’s not fair to do it to you either.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lillie said, tears mirroring in her own eyes. “Please! What do you mean, this is the end?” She choked on a laugh. “We’re going to be in one another’s lives forever. Iwon’t stand it any other way. You’re more than my best friend—you—you know this—you’re closer even than my cousin. You’re my sister.”
When Grace was younger, sleeping in the bed next to Lillie, she had often wished that they really were sisters.
“Besides, I like you better than Oliver anyway,” she said, and Grace laughed.
“Your mother already thinks I’ve corrupted you. Your midnight medical adventures on Scab Row are not going to help things.”
“She doesn’t know a thing. She thinks I’m cross-stitching, but I don’t even know how. I buy them from the women’s league and pass them off as mine, and she’s none the wiser.” Lillie shook her head. “And I havenever oncethought of you as someone needing my charity. I’ve been grateful to you,” she said, clasping Grace’s hands, “for helping to keep my eyes open. You’ve made me simultaneously want more for my life regarding the things that matter and less for the things that don’t. I will never forget the goodness you’ve brought me, all my life. Goodness—and grace,” she said.
She reached out for Grace and embraced her, holding her tightly.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too,” Grace said. “And I always will.”
“Silly darling, imagining that you could get away from me that easily,” Lillie said, squeezing her hands.
Grace smiled faintly, her throat going strangely dry. The thing was, Lillie had never once come to visit her in Kansas City. Grace knew it was because of Aunt Clove, and that now Lillie was finally old enough to start making her own choices. They both were. But this—whatever their life had looked like up to now—was ending. And as long as they were facing their ugliest secrets: if they couldn’t without a doubt hang on to one another, Grace would rather be the one to cut the cord than the one who was left.
Lillie looked out at the city, seemingly convinced that all was intact and all would be well. Her face was clear and lovely, until her brow suddenly knotted.
“Also. While we’re alone,” she said, voice lowering, “I think Oliver has been acting quite strange lately. Have you noticed?”
Grace’s heart fell. “Oh,” she said, studying a fountain nestled between elegantly manicured parterres. Suddenly, she was eager to get back to the house. “What do you mean?”
“Just… odd. Sneaking off at strange times. His head in the clouds. Being a little, I don’t know. Cagey.”
“Maybe he, too, has secret forbidden medical aspirations,” Grace said lightly.
Lillie laughed, pushing back strands of her hair. Grace’s favorite sound.
She loved being with her cousins. Being between them had always been her favorite place in the world. Only recently, it had begun to feel like being pulled in two separate directions.
“So you haven’t noticed anything?” Lillie prodded.
Grace glanced away, her throat uncomfortably dry as that pull threatened to break something that mattered dearly to her.
“No,” she said. “I haven’t.”
“You have to tell Lillie,” Grace insisted to Oliver as soon as they were alone.
They stood together as the boats floated lazily below in the canals, the water reflecting the white columns of the Palaces.
“Tell Lillie what?” Oliver asked innocently.
