“Don’t mind me,” Inessa says. “I thought if I stood here and looked all forlorn and sad, it would make people want to spend more money.”
“I can’t thank you enough for the sprinklers,” I say, then shift my focus to Sabine. “And the impromptu ankle fake-out. That saved us.”
She hikes up the hem of her dress and rotates her ankle. “It’s a modern miracle,” she says. “I did have to convince Ellerby and Whelehan that ‘Enzo’ left town—and that they’d have a tough time tracking him down. With everything else going on, I’m not sure how much they’re going to pursue it. Seems like they tightened security tonight, though.”
“I can’t think of anyone who’s less of a threat,” Sumner says.
“He’s really gone, then?” Inessa asks.
A dull ache tugs at my heart. “He’s gone.”
When I’d checked the Ivernia website earlier, William’s name remained as the original founder. He’d gone on and continued to live his life the way he wanted.
I hope he was happy. I hope he remembered us.
By the time we make a few rounds to thank alumni for their generosity, the evening is winding down. People huddle by the coat check while others polish off the last of the dessert. A few seniors stand near the exits to thank everyone for coming.
Lionel finds us, dashing in his burgundy tux. “Hey, so, I know William’s not here anymore. But you think we could, I don’t know”—he looks between us, suddenly bashful—“keep the group chat going?”
“No doubt,” I tell him. “You can’t get rid of us that easily.”
“There are like sixty different video games I need to discuss with you,” Sumner adds, grinning.
Ellerby excuses herself from a conversation when she spots me. She wears an expression of polite neutrality as she maneuvers over, but I meet her halfway.
My heart sinks. “It’s not enough, is it?”
“If we needed the money, no. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be enough.”
I try,reallytry, not to feel like this was all for nothing. No matter what happens next, this place won’t be forgotten. And we’ll be okay.
But—hold on. “Ifwe needed—?”
A smile toys on the edge of her lips. “I received a call from Beaumont Guidry’s legal team earlier. There was a letter found in his documents that had been previously overlooked. A property deed drafted by Ivernia’s founder dating to the school’s origins, in fact, which ensures Ivernia is no longer Charles Guidry’s property to sell. I’m meeting with them tomorrow to go over the details.” She places a hand on my shoulder. “This changes everything.”
William did this, for us.Hope trips off the edge of my tongue. “So we get to stay?”
“Tonight’s donations will go toward our community,” she says. “And yes, we get to stay.”
I throw my arms around her, clearly taking her by surprise.“Thank you.”
Inevitably, this place will look different a year from now. Two years from now. Ten. Fifty. It won’t be full of the same students lounging in the quad or darting along the pathways to make it to class. Maybe it will completely transform, or maybe signs of its history will remain. It doesn’t matter. The important pieces will still belong to me.
Right now, it’s ours.
Sumner’s waiting for me by the coat check. It’s possible I’m not meant to share this news so soon, but I can’t help telling him. His eyes light up, relief palpable as it consumes him, right up until that mischievous grin returns.
“And to think,” he says slyly, “you did all this because you couldn’t fathom not seeing this face for the rest of the year.”
“Exactly,” I deadpan as he grabs our coats. “You read me so easily.”
I track the confusion on his face as he helps me slide on my peacoat. “Why is this so heavy?”
My fingers curl around the brass trophy in my pocket, the very one I’d uncovered in the commons when he’d changed into his suit hours ago.
“Huh.” I grin. “Is it heavy?”
He raises an eyebrow, then lowers his lips to my ear. “You know, I don’t need a trophy, Carmichael.” He takes a small step back, eyes softening, as if taking in the moment. Then his hand closes around mine. “I’ve already won.”
