Page 29 of River & Rue

Her snowy brows rise. “You calmly shared a perspective; hardly an outburst.”

Even in my hazy state, my skin prickles. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She doesn’t appear offended; on the contrary, her smile turns mischievous.

“I’ve learned a few things in my sixty-plus years on this rock, including this: oftentimes the easiest way to discredit someone is to let them do it themselves.”

I blink a few times, replaying the night through a different lens.

“That’s actually genius.”

“Works around eighty percent of the time, I’d say.” Her phone buzzes in her hand. “There’s Kirk. I think I’ll hitch a ride, if you don’t mind. The weather has my arthritis in a tizzy.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. And of course. I don’t mind at all.”

She gives me another impish grin, the corners of her eyes creasing deeply. It’s so different from her usual, serene smile that I know I’m seeing the real Claudia.

“I’m glad you’re here, Rue.”

My neck warms. “Me too.”

As we walk toward the doors, another question hops onto my tongue. I open my mouth to ask, then hesitate. Claudia may currently embody a cool grandma archetype, but I’m not naive enough to think we’re suddenly besties. And it’s not like I want to ask her something innocuous like the details of her skincare routine.

“I see that mind turning. Go ahead and ask me.”

“Oh, it’s nothing⁠—”

“I’d like to hear it.”

Her voice is soft and genuine but unyielding. Cool grandma meets I moonlight as a mob boss.

I fold instantly.

“Is there any truth to what Penelope said? Was another artist dropped from the program because of River?”

The words taste wrong, and I’m sweating by the time I finish. Claudia, on the other hand, appears completely unruffled. There’s even a hint of amusement in her eyes, though it doesn’t feel like it’s at my expense. Or not exactly. It’s more like I’ve revealed a secret she’s delighted with.

Not a comforting thought.

“River was indeed a late addition this year, and another artist originally occupied his spot, but the two facts are unrelated. The artist’s withdrawal was over a month ago, several weeks before I received a call regarding River’s potential attendance.”

I release a slow breath. “Then he didn’t know.”

She shakes her head, her smile decidedly sly. “In fact, I’m fairly certain River didn’t know much about PAC itself before his arrival. But his reasons for being here are for him to share.” She pauses, humor returning to her eyes. “Serendipitous, isn’t it? That you’re here together?”

“The universe loves surprises,” I mutter.

“It does indeed. Perhaps you need each other as much as this collective needs both of you.”

That I keep my face from contorting is a champagne miracle.

“Maybe you’re right.”

Not a chance in hell.

A loud, high-pitched beep sounds outside, followed swiftly by two more.

Kirk hollers, “Choo-Choo! All aboard!”