“You want to tell me why there’s a suitcase on the porch, Iz?”
Izzy closed her eyes against the brightness of the afternoon. “Not really.”
“Yeah,” Caitlin said softly, her voice thick with years of understanding. “That’s about what I figured.”
She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly, protectively against Izzy’s arm. “Walk with me?”
Izzy hesitated, her lungs burning with the dry mountain air. Then she nodded. “Yeah.”
They stepped off the porch together, their boots soft on the gravel as they moved down toward the side path that curved along the edge of the ridge.
They walked in silence for the first dozen steps, the gravel soft underfoot, the sharp drop of the ridge opening out wide and endless beside them. Caitlin didn’t rush it. She knew her best friend too well to push for a clean version before she was ready to hear it.
Finally, “What happened?” Caitlin asked. Simple. Quiet.
Izzy let out a short, humorless sound, her hands shoving deep into her pockets. “I got fired.”
Caitlin stopped dead in the middle of the dirt path. “What?”
Izzy turned to face her, hands settling onto her hips like she needed the physical alignment to hold herself up. “The investors decided I wasn’t the right ‘long-term direction’ for the gallery,” she said, her fingers air-quoting the words with bitter precision. “Apparently, having actual standards is a liability in Denver now.”
Caitlin stared at her, her expression fracturing into immediate shock. “That is completely insane.”
“Yeah,” Izzy said, looking out over the peaks. “It’s a bloodbath.”
Caitlin’s expression shifted—the initial shock fading into something more focused, more careful. She stepped closer, her voice dropping into a serious, guarded clip.
“And Grant?”
Izzy gave a short, jagged laugh that didn’t have any warmth in it. “Also not my biggest fan today.”
Caitlin didn’t laugh. She didn’t let it slide. She stepped right into Izzy’s space, her eyes narrowing a fraction.
“Did something happen, Iz? Really?”
Izzy looked away immediately. Too fast.
Caitlin winced. “With Grant?” she pressed.
Izzy crossed her arms tightly, her gaze fixed on the blue mountains like they might offer an exit.
“That’s not the point,” Izzy said, her voice turning cold.
“That is the point,” Caitlin replied softly.
A long beat.
“I know you, Iz,” Caitlin added, her hand finding Izzy’s shoulder. “You don’t pack a heavy suitcase over a bad corporate business call. Don’t give me the clean version.”
The line landed hard, knocking the last of Izzy’s defenses loose. Her shoulders dropped.
“There was a… moment,” she said finally.
Caitlin didn’t react right away. She didn’t interrupt.
“Last night,” Izzy added, the admission sounding small against the vastness of the valley.
Caitlin’s brows lifted, a spark of realization hitting her eyes. “A moment.”
