Harmony laughed. “Hey.” She touched Cass’s shoulder. “I know how dark this feels. You and I are the light.”
Cass rolled her eyes, but her mouth curved. “Fine. But I get to pick the shade.”
“Something dramatic,” Harmony said.
“Obviously.”
They climbed back into the cart. Harmony turned the key, the motor purring to life. She didn’t pull away yet.
“Promise me something,” Cass said, staring straight ahead, voice softer than the wind.
“If I can.”
“Promise you’ll stop trying to control this story.” Cass’s voice cracked on the last word. Harmony hated how much that scared her because it meant Cass was right.
“What if the story’s controlling us?”
“Then we burn the pages,” Cass said. “We choose each other instead, like we’ve always done.”
Harmony nodded. “Always.”
Her phone buzzed again, a persistent gnat.
They reached Antonio’s and ordered salad because they needed it while they waited for pizza. The island made it too easy to eat like teenagers. Temptation was on every corner.
“Look who’s here,” Cass murmured.
Janie breezed past with two men in her draft of perfume and easy promises. “Oh, girls,” she sang. “You look absolutely delicious.”
“You look like you,” Cass said with a sugary smile.
Janie’s smile sharpened. “People are saying you’ve been very busy, Harmony.”
“People love fiction.” Harmony didn’t take the bait.
Janie leaned closer, a confessional without a priest. “I heard Mary threatened Tosh on the pier last night.”
“Did you?” Harmony asked. “From who?”
Janie’s lashes lowered. “From the wind. She’s louder than you think.” She paused, milking the moment. “Be careful. Glass cuts when it shatters.” She paused. “And stop standing on balconies at night. You’re too easy to photograph.” She winked and floated away.
Cass made a gagging face. “I need a shower after that.”
Harmony watched Janie’s bright dress vanish into the crowd. “Keep an eye on her.”
“Why?”
“She knows where the cameras are.”
Their salads arrived. Cass picked at it with irritated focus. Harmony speared a cucumber and nibbled. Through the open window, Zach passed by. He didn’t look in, but Harmony felt the tug of his presence anyway, like a tide that rearranged sand without asking.
“You should go talk to him,” Cass said.
“We’re talking.”
“In your head doesn’t count.”
“I disagree.” Harmony dabbed her mouth with her napkin.
