“Then we’ll fix it.”
Claire looked down at our joined hands.
“You always saywewhen you mean later.”
The SUV stopped at the hotel’s private entrance.
Rachel waited beside the door with her coat fastened incorrectly, which meant she had dressed while walking.
Marcus opened the car.
Claire let go of my hand before Rachel could see.
Not because Rachel did not know.
Because hiding had become reflex.
Claire picked up the pie.
I took the trophy.
Rachel looked between us.
“Everyone okay?”
“Yes,” I said.
Claire stepped onto the pavement.
“Wardrobe survived.”
Rachel’s face tightened.
She had already heard.
“I’m sorry.”
Claire smiled at her.
Not warmly.
Not cruelly.
Professionally.
“It’s fine.”
She walked inside.
Rachel watched her go.
Then she looked at me.
“It isn’t.”
“I know.”
Rachel took the trophy from me.
