I tore my gaze from Bee and reached a hand toward Sybil, hoping to dampen the explosion. “Sybil, are you okay?”
Undeniable shock was apparent on her blanching face as she coughed. I pushed water toward her, and she took a few sips. I squeezed her knee to offer comfort.
“Um,wow,” she went on, “sorry, I think I got a littlepepperstuck in mythroat.”She was fanning herself, trying to hide her shock behind this mask of choking. “I…uh.I should tell my friend about it, you know, the one that’s always dragging me to the PERL shows.” Sybil pulled out her phone, fingers tapping a flurry of texts. Her recovered expression began to border on anger.
Guilt sank its claws deep into my chest. “You can bring your friend too, if you want,” I offered in a feeble attempt to help. Maybe if Catherine were there, she’d feel better and fix this.
Sybil’s eyes flew to mine. She set her phone face down. “No! No,she won’t…um… be available that night, I know that,” she fumbled.
If I weren’t so scared about what this meant for Sybil’s mental health, I’d find it cute how she was trying and failing to look unbothered. Her entire demeanor changed the minute I mentioned the PERL. It was further proof of her secret identity.
I glanced at Bee as we exchanged looks of companionable anxiety and understanding.
Sybil’s phone buzzed, and she swiped it up again, frowning at the screen. She ignored us, sending another flurry of desperate-looking texts. After a while, she set the phone back down, and a smile that didn’t touch her eyes stretched across her face. She was a terrible actress.
“It’ll be great.” She grabbed her fork, gripping it for dear life. I fretted for the steak’s future.
“You don’t have to go if you’re nervous,” Bee chimed in.
I nodded in desperate agreement. Seeing Sybil unravel before my eyes like this? I wanted to tell her we knew andunderstood. Should I, or would it only make things worse? I felt trapped, unable to protect her.
“No.” Sybil shook her head. “I said I’d go. I’m excited. I just... it hit me how nervous I am about it, that’s all. Delayed reaction.” That was a lie. No part of her suggested excitement. “It’s good for me, though. I need to do things like this.”
My heart squeezed in my chest. Standing, I did the only thing I could think to do and poured her a glass of whiskey from the bar cart. Setting it before her, she grabbed at it and took a large gulp. When it was empty, I dutifully poured her another.
“We’re going to help you, okay?” Bee pressed. “Anything you need, you have us. We can whisk you right out of there at any point, just say the word.”
Sybil nodded robotically.
I frowned.
We continued dinner, though Sybil sat there in a daze. I lost my appetite too, scared to death by the way Bee kept glaring at me. She was in full guardian mode, wanting to protect Sybil, and I was her target to blame. It was admirable, but terrifying.
After dinner, Bee and I cleared the table as Sybil continued texting on her phone.
“You fucking twat-waffle,” Bee whisper-screamed once we were out of earshot in the kitchen. She fake-stabbed me with a steak knife. I should have just let her do it. “Are youfuckingkidding me?”
I dodged and shrugged. “I thought she already knew. You did too,” I pleaded.
Bee shoved dirty plates at me, and I added them to thedishwasher.
“Well, she knowsnow,”she shot back. “Asshole.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” I defended.
Bee grumbled. “For the love of cats, if you make her run, I’ll have Mr. Beans suffocate you in your sleep—and pee in your bed.”
I rolled my eyes. “She won’t run. You gave her an out, and she still insists on going with us, even if she knows it’s a much bigger deal than what she first agreed to.”
“Some therapist this Dr. Catherine is. Why didn’t shetellher?” she hissed. “She’s much more qualified to handle telling her this than we are.”
“Maybe she knew we’d say something? She knows what I do. It’s no secret Beaumont is hosting the auction.” I recalled our conversation at the hospital, she was hiding secrets then, too. “Catherine seems like a sneaky woman. She must be playing a game. I’m just not sure what that game is.”
“Well, you’d better go cheer her the fuck up. She’s our responsibility now if her therapist is going to be such a twat.” She took the rest of the dirty dishes from my hands, ushering me out of the kitchen like a scorned child.
I barely had a chance to wash and dry my hands. Sybil must have sensed me watching her as I stalked in her direction; her sullen gaze found mine from the table. Her whiskey glass was empty.
The look on her face alarmed me; she looked nothing like the girl I’d come home to earlier. She was pale, eyes now tired and drawn. Her arms were crossed tight against her chest as though to protect herself from the world.
