“You’re not going to tell me you fell for him then?”

Brie merely moved her shoulders. How could she confirm or deny what she didn’t know?

“Well.” Christina poured more tea in her cup. Because she found the idea so sweet, she forgot about details. “That certainly explains why you didn’t have much interest in all those gorgeous men in Paris. I’m happy for you.”

She laid her hand over Brie’s lightly, briefly. It was a very simple, very casual touch of friendship. Brie’s eyes filled so that she had to fight to clear them.

“I’m glad he was here for you after …” Christina trailed off, no longer interested in her tea. When she set her legs down, she touched Brie’s hand again, but the touch was firmer. “Brie, I wish you’d talk to me about it. The press is so vague. I know they haven’t caught the people responsible, and I can’t stand it.”

“The police are investigating.”

“But they haven’t caught anyone. Can you rest easily until they do? I can’t.”

“No.” Unable to sit, Brie rose, linking her hands. “No, I can’t. I’ve tried to go on with the daily business of life, but it’s like waiting, just waiting without knowing.”

“Oh, Brie.” Chris was at her side, hugging her. “I don’t mean to pressure you, but we’ve always shared everything. I was so frightened for you.” A tear brimmed over, but she brushed at it impatiently. “Damn, I told myself I wouldn’t do this, but I can’t help it. Every time I think about what it was like to pick up the paper and see the headline—”

Brie took a step back from the emotion. “You shouldn’t think about it. It’s over.”

The tears cleared, but now there was puzzlement. “I’m sorry.” Hurt, but unsure why, Christina looked down for her bag. “It’s too easy to forget sometimes who you are and what rules you have to live by.”

“No.” Torn between instinct and a promise, Brie hesitated. “Don’t go, Chris. I need—oh, God, I do need to talk to someone.” Brie looked at her then and chose. “We’re very good friends, aren’t we?”

Puzzlement and hurt became confusion. “Brie, you know—”

“No, just tell me.”

Christina set her bag back down again. “Eve’s my sister,” she said calmly. “And I love her. There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for her. I don’t love you any less.”

Brie closed her eyes a moment. “Sit down, please.” She waited, then sat down beside Christina. Taking one long breath, she told her friend everything.

Perhaps Christina paled a bit, perhaps her eyes widened, but she interrupted Brie only twice to clarify. When the story was finished, she sat in absolute silence for a moment. But, then, volcanoes often sit quietly.

“It stinks.”

She said the words in her soft Texas drawl so that Brie blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“It stinks,” Christina repeated. “Politics usually does, and Americans are the first to say so, but this really stinks.”