He nodded—and fled.
Faraday locked the door behind him and threw herself on my bed. She was still dressing like us, all in white linen, to match the endless summer outside.
“What’s this about?” I asked.
“You haven’t visited me yet! Don’t you want to see the light box you sold me? I found the perfect spot, right at the top of the stairs!”
“That’s your emergency? Art appreciation?”
“I’m getting to it.” She leaned back on my bed. “Do you think the smoke will ever go away?”
“Next week,” I said. “The heat wave ends with a storm.”
“Do you promise, dear?”
“I merely report the forecast.”
“You’re as bad as your cousin. He said the same thing.”
“How is Sebastian?” Had she tried to kiss him yet? I hadn’t asked. I didn’t think about Faraday when Sebastian and I were together.
“If you visited us, you’d know.” Faraday let out a groan. “I’m deeply over everything reeking of smoke. The koi have gone belly-up in my pond. It’s ghastly.”
“A tragedy,” I agreed.
“I could slay one of your delicious cocktails though. Nothing smoky, please.”
I glanced at my liquor cabinet, lovingly packed by Veronica, as always, the night before we left for Helshire. It was mostly untouched.
“You’re still not drinking,” Faraday accused.
“Not till I’m off these meds.”
Faraday shuddered. “That’s ghastly too. Who spends their senior year sober? Ghastly, ghastly, ghastly.”
I handed her Tom’s untouched drink, equal parts gin, milk solids, Cointreau, and Lillet Blanc. Sweet enough for his jejune palate.
“A Corpse Reviver, my version.”
“Are you sure you won’t have a small one?”
“I’ve tried. Didn’t go well.”
Faraday shrugged, drank, then stared at me. “Jessica. Did you just give me…awarmcocktail?”
“Oh.” I could hear Veronica screaming somewhere in the smoke. “The ice machine is down the hall, and you said it was an emergency.”
“Jesus.” Faraday plonked the glass down, shaking her head. “And it’ssweet.”
“My standards are mellowing,” I said. “What’s wrong?”
“Did Sebastian ever visit you in the hospital?”
“Yes. He drove me home.”
Faraday nodded, but didn’t seem happy. “He never talks about you.”
A secret within a secret. “He has a lot on his plate.”
