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“It’ll most likely be foggy,” I said.

She looked at me like I’d peed myself. “Does fog negate the need for clothing? Is this what I pay you for?”

“The plum one,” I said, almost cutting her off, which I immediately regretted.

She slipped out of her pajamas right in front of me, not because she was immodest, but because I had the status of furniture. I handed her the plum dress.

“Marco never came to anything like this with me,” she said, muffled as she pulled the dress over her head. “Fifteen years, and he never once supported my spiritual journey.” She inclined her head and stared at herself, smoothing the silk at the hips. “Do you know what it’s like to manifest alone in a house this size? I felt so alone. Alone with him in the room, and alone without him.”

I cleared my throat lightly. “Would you like me to pack for you?”

“Yes, everything’s on the bed.”

The bed looked like a pile of fabric tentacles, clothes strewn and tangled. I sorted and folded, rolling a crick out of my neck.

“I’m sorry if I’m tense,” she said, emerging from the closet. “You know what I get like before anything that matters.”

“I know,” I said. “But tonight will be wonderful. You’ll love it.”

I pulled her duffel from the top shelf of her closet and returned to place clothing in it that had no business being in the wilderness.

“You know, you’re the reason I believe in this. You went to that retreat like a little mouse and came out with a man who made a grieving woman forget her own name for four minutes. Don’t think I didn’t see what happened by the pool.”

For the first time ever, she reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, then drew back quickly to disguise the care in it.

“When I’m back, we’re discussing your future. You have an eye, Marlowe. You orchestrated that party seamlessly. You shouldn’t be fetching my mineral water for the rest of your life.”

It was like a little meteor crashing into the room. Vivienne didn’t say things like that. Not to me. For a few bewildering seconds, I hated her a little less, and in those seconds, guilt snuck around me like algae in water.

“Thanks,” I said, dumbly.

She looked at me again, the plum dress still draping her long limbs. “This retreat… you’re sure it’s right for me? Do you really think I could find—”

“Of course,” I said. The same two words I’d said a thousand times in that house, for bee pollen and juice fasts and ashwagandha. But this time they sounded different when they left my mouth. I couldn’t tell if she noticed.

I packed the last of her things, gave Sofia a hug in the kitchen, and drove to Damian’s workshop to pick up the truck. His jeep was already gone. I found the truck keys hidden behind an old window frame leaning against the side of the building, exactly as he’d told me this morning.

When I pulled up to Bayshore, the three of them stood outside waiting, all clutching the straps of their bags like they might blow away. Jess had actually bought something from Sephora.

They climbed into the truck, Callie in front.

“Are we seriously doing this? I had a panic attack this morning when I realized it was real,” Priya said.

I looked at her in the mirror. “You’re sure Adrian doesn’t suspect something?”

“Pfft.” She waved her hand. “He’s barely talked to me for the last few days. The thirst traps have dried up. He made some excuse about going out with friends tonight.”

“Friends who vicariously eat people,” Callie said.

I looked at Jess. “And Soren?”

She shook her head, looking out the window. “He doesn’t know. He said the same thing, he’s ‘busy with the guys.’”

“Yeah, he’ll be busy,” Priya muttered.

“He’s on security tonight.”

I didn’t correct her.