Page 54 of Fire and Ice Cruise

Which means exactly nothing. I’ve learned the hard way that the best liars look the most innocent.

“Question two.” Marina’s voice cuts through the room. “Which famous artist didn’t begin painting until age seventy-six?”

The room erupts in whispered debates. Marina mingles with the crowd as if she were born to do it—she pauses for effect, makes eye contact with different tables, and keeps the energy humming like a pro. This isn’t a woman who’s just helping out. This is a woman who knows exactly what she’s doing.

“She’s good,” Bess murmurs.

“She’s great,” Nettie corrects. “Look at Wes watching her like she’s the answer to a question he didn’t know he was asking.”

I glance back. Nettie’s not wrong. His full attention is on Marina now, and there’s something in his expression I rarely see. He looks as though he’s discovered something unexpected and isn’t sure what to do with it.

“The answer is Grandma Moses,” I say, still watching the drama unfold. “Anna Mary Robertson Moses to be exact.”

“How do you know that?” Bess asks.

“Grandma Moses is basically required reading if you own a paintbrush.”

“Bonus round!” Tinsley announces. “Please refer to the sheet you were handed at the door that has ten bonus questions. Please write your answers directly on the paper, and yes, spelling counts.” She pauses for effect. “Allegedly.”

Marina is making the rounds now, and watching her work a room is something—she stops at each table just long enough to make everyone feel like the most important person in it. Now that’s a gift.

When she reaches the Second Act Society group, she pauses at Silas and Holland’s table and says something that makes Holland laugh.

Silas looks up at her, then does a double-take.

“You’re the widow,” he says. It doesn’t come across as unkind. Just matter-of-fact. “Gideon mentioned you.”

I grow very still.

Marina’s smile stays exactly where it is. “Did he.”

Silas nods. “He said you were remarkably resilient.” His voice stays easy and warm. “Considering everything.”

Considering everything?

“That was kind of him,” Marina says, sounding perfectly pleasant on the surface, but with something considerably sharper underneath. “But I’m sort of curious what he meant by everything.”

You and me both, sister.

Holland’s hand finds Silas’s arm and she gives him a squeeze, but I can’t tell if she’s trying to comfort him or give him a warning.

“Just that grief takes courage,” Silas says smoothly. “Reinventing yourself after loss is one of the hardest things.”

Marina holds his gaze one beat longer than is comfortable. “Yes. I would certainly agree with that. Gideon seemed to know everything about everyone.”

I look down at my answer sheet and write nothing because I’m not thinking about trivia anymore.

She moves to the next table, her performance never wavering, but I’m locked on Silas now. He’s not writing anymore either. He’s staring at his answer sheet, his jaw tight, fingers gripping his pen hard enough that his knuckles show white.

Holland leans close and whispers something. Silas shakes his head, and now she looks worried.

Celeste is still hovering behind them, her entire countenance glowing a soft shade of pink as she catches my eye and taps her temple, then points at Silas.

Right. Cryptic ghost charades. Just what I need.

“Question eight!” Tinsley calls out. “What legendary performer was told she was too old for a comeback at forty-five, then broke box office records?”

The room buzzes with speculation, but I’m not listening anymore.