Perhaps it’s not surprising that Thraxton is such a high achiever at a young age—his mother, Penelope Archer, a legend of the London stage, won her first Laurence Olivier Award when she was eighteen for her starring role in Romeo and Juliet, and his father, Theodore Senior, famously bought his first luxury hotel with cash he won at a roulette table in Monte Carlo. “I come from a dramatic family,” Theo admits. Asked about his own drama, he demurs. “The most dramatic episode of my life was when I was three years old and fell into the tiger enclosure at the Berlin Zoo,” he says. “I’m lucky to be alive, even with all the scars. Drama, I can do without. I’d just like to do some good in the world.”

I read the piece over twice. Other articles mentioned Theo, but they were boring business stories about Thraxton International’s global expansion. More recently, pieces quoted him on issues like the campaign to return the Elgin Marbles to Greece. None of it was personal. I found a New York Times “Vows” column about Caro and Theo’s wedding, but I couldn’t bring myself to click on it just then. There were a couple of tabloid photos of the two of them together at charity balls, and then several of Caro splendidly dressed, but always alone. “Socialite Caroline Thraxton Chairs First Annual Gala for Domestic Violence Charity” popped up, and I noticed the byline belonged to Abby Morel, the reporter who’d tackled me at the church. I scanned it, but it was mostly pictures of rich people in fancy clothes. The charity in question was the Diotima Civic Society. It had come up the last time I’d argued with Caro—maybe a year ago—about how she’d become a corporate drone.

You always wanted to be a journalist, I’d said. So why are you stuck doing publicity for a hotel chain?

I was a journalist for a while, and it was terrible, Caro had answered. I got to write puff pieces under my own byline, or work like hell for someone else’s byline and let them take credit. In both cases, I worked for peanuts.

But journalism was your dream.

It was, but a lot’s changed since then. Caro didn’t make a direct reference to the years we’d lost touch, but that floated between us uneasily. I’m doing more good now than I ever did as a journalist. Diotima wouldn’t be able to do their amazing work without funding.

That’s great for now, I’d snarked, but the hotel chain probably won’t survive the pandemic.

Caro had smiled at that. You’d be surprised how well it’s doing.