“Do you have an end goal? Something specific you want to find out?” I finally ask as we round the Great Lawn.

She squints, doesn’t slow her pace. “I guess I want to know that there was nothing I could have done to stop it.” I nod, let the subject drop. I know that burden.

When Page answers the door the evening of the book party, I’m struck again by her hair, her clean face, the freckles standing out on her nose, no longer covered by layers of foundation. It’s when I look down at her feet that I notice the same Thom Browne penny loafers I was wearing the night of the book club.

She notices me looking. “I got them from Vestiaire Collective. I wanted to break them in!” She smiles and I smile unsteadily back, feeling a pinch between my eyes.

We head up to her bedroom and bathroom and start doing our makeup, all of our products the same expensive labels, mine tumbling out of my makeup bag and scattering across the bathroom counter. I make sure that they don’t get mixed, pulling my stuff closer as I rub concealer under my eyes.

“I’m excited!” Page murmurs as she looks at the eye shadow palette, trying to decide which color to use. “I feel like we’re going to meet so many cool people.”

I start on my eyes, too. “They’d better not ask me too many questions.”

Page scoffs. “You’re still worried about that? Come on, it’ll be fun.” She jostles my hip with hers in a way that bothers me and I have to bite my lip to keep from saying something scathing. “It’s not like you’re drowning in invitations these days, anyway.”

I place my small eye shadow brush down and try to find her eyes in the mirror. But it’s like she hasn’t even realized it’s a snarky thing to say. She just continues doing her makeup, content as can be.

It’s something I would have quipped back at back in the day, especially if I was annoyed with someone.

She finishes her makeup and it’s subtle, my own signature swipe of eyeliner at the corners of her eyes. “Want me to get you a drink?” It takes me a moment to say yes, I would love a drink. I watch her flit out of the bedroom with her phone tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.