“Jules ran a red light. It was an accident. She didn’t mean to, and I’m not mad at her. Why would I be upset with you?”
Francesca shook her head. She emptied her espresso before placing the cup on the coffee table. She faced Lucia. “When I got out of the van… I still had theMadonnaclutched in her case. I was disoriented and couldn’t breathe right at first, but then I turned and went back in to check on you, on all of you. I was so relieved to hear Skye curse and Jules groan, then start babbling apologies.”
“We got lucky.”
Francesca nodded. “But then I saw you, and you…you were bleeding and unconscious, and for a second, I couldn’t move. I just stared at you, willing you to open your eyes.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, her hands twisting in her lap, nails digging into her palms.
“I’m sorry.”
Francesca’s jaw tightened. “Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong, and I’m the one who—”
“I’m not apologizing. I’m sorry you were in that situation. It must have been hard, and I am sorry you went through it, regardless of how it affected me.”
“You’re killing me.”
“Are we even, then?”
Francesca let out a small laugh. “No, because in your scenario, I’d be dead. You’d have killed me. To make it even, I’d have to come back and haunt you, since I onlyalmostkilled you.”
“Well, then, maybe I won’t kill you. I’m not into ghosts and scary stuff.”
A beat of silence.
“My point is, I thought you were dead,” Francesca’s voice broke. “During the impact, I thought I’d killed you all. Then Skye and Jules were fine, and I was almost dizzy with relief, only to…”
“I don’t plan on getting into any more car crashes.”
Francesca released a shaky laugh, but then the humor drained from her face. “I’m not joking, Lucy. I can’t do this anymore. I nearly lost all of you. And for what?”
A pause. A breath.
“There’s always been risk in our work, but over time, after getting luckier than we had any right to, I might have become complacent, thinking us invincible.” She shook her head. “That should be a folly of youth, no?”
“Nothing happened,” Lucia said.
“This time.” Francesca’s hands trembled in her lap. She looked at Lucia for a long moment, then: “I’m shutting down the Collective.”
“Wait, what?”
~ ~ ~
While Lucia and Penelope had been texting and talking a lot, they hadn’t been able to meet up as often as either would have liked in the past two weeks, yet this Saturday, Penelope would spend the night at Lucia’s, and Lucia had plans.
She had prepared a walnut-mushroom lasagna and a large salad of leafy greens and was just setting the table when the doorbell rang.
The smell of roasted mushrooms and garlic filled the space, warm and inviting. The overhead light cast a golden glow over the small dining table, where mismatched plates waited.
“Hi,” Lucia said, her breath still uneven from hurrying to the door.
“Hi.” Penelope stepped inside, connecting their lips in a quick kiss. “How are you?”
“Good. Better now, even.”
Penelope smiled. “Charmer.”
“Hmm, are you hungry? The lasagna is ready, though I can also change the setting to keeping it warm.”
“Well, since you told me to come starving…”
