I knew I should be embarrassed, it was actually just such a relief to get my shoes off and have the pain stop that I didn’t really care my feet were horrifying fancy fashion people.
Margaux had jumped into action, getting first aid supplies from the kits she explained came to every shoot with them—Neosporin, Band-Aids, moleskin pads to put over the Band-Aids so they wouldn’t rub. It reminded me of when Kat had shown me her dance bag—which she was still holding on to despite the fact that she wasn’t still dancing, not that she seemed to like me to point that out.
Once my feet were patched up, Margaux had eyeballed them and procured a pair of flat leather boots for me to wear, made by a designer whose name I recognized but whose shoes I’d never actually seen in person. I tried to protest, but Margaux steamrolled me, giving me a pair of cashmere socks to wear with them, telling me to treat my feet gently for the rest of the night and assuring me they’d look great with my jumpsuit.
She gave me a canvas bag for my terrible heels, even though I was tempted to tell her to just throw them away, and when I’d pulled on the new boots, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. “I think they look awesome.”
I nodded and tried to give her a smile, but then had to look away, blinking hard.
She was being so nice to me. So was Matty—coming all the way over here with me, trying to help me out. I had never given them any reason to be so kind, I knew with a kind of creeping shame. I had three siblings, and I’d been pushing them away for a year. And where had it gotten me?
Suddenly, I felt so small. Petty and jealous and young.
You stand in your own way. I’d been so furious at Kat when she’d said it. But she was right—this was just one more piece of proof. I could have had a year of inside jokes and text threads and known Brad’s secret identities and all about the Raptor. I could have had a year with my family, new and different and unexpected as it was.
But I was here now. And maybe that was enough to start?
“Thank you so much,” I said to Margaux. I didn’t know how to apologize, to explain all this to her. “I just,” I started, my voice choked. “I’m really…”
“Oh, no,” Margaux said, swooping in to hug me. “Oh, honey. I know, those things can really hurt. But it’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” I said, running my hand over my face and giving her a watery smile. “I hope so.”
“Margaux?” One of the people I had seen at the table with the laptops stuck his head around the curtain. “You’re needed.”
“Right,” she said, all business again, turning to follow him. She glanced back at me and winked. “See you out there.”
I hurried after her—I didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity to ask what, exactly, I was doing with what I was sure were prohibitively expensive boots. In the hallway, I could see Matty leaning against the wall by a water fountain, one knee bent, talking on the phone, Brad flopped down at his feet. I walked over to join him just as he hung up.
I looked at his expression, trying to see if he’d gotten good news or bad. All at once, it was like whatever spell had been cast by the museum and Margaux was broken, and I was back to reality, focusing on what I had to do. I had to try and get back into Mallory’s apartment, and drop off the dog.…
Matty smiled at me and held up his phone. “My mom assures me the keys are in her office.”
“Oh,” I said, hope flaring in my chest again, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what this meant.
“And if she says they’re there, they are. We can trust her. Not like Margaux.” He said this last part for Margaux’s benefit. She was breezing past, carrying a romper that was supercute, trailed by Zephyr, who was engrossed in his phone.
“Talking about me as usual, I see,” she said as she put the romper on a rack. “What did Mom say?”
“She left the keys at her office. She’s gone for the night, but she told the guard at the front desk I’ll be coming to get them.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, shaking my head. I was