“Not really. I introduced you to Pip, remember? Just like I sponsored you at the yacht club and book group and the lawn tennis club. The only reason you’ve ever had any social standing in this town is because of me. I took your white trash ass out of the muck you grew up in, but when you screwed my husband, you screwed yourself.”

Libby’s smug face said checkmate and the dragon inside Jess roared, railing against privilege that was never questioned and never required to prove itself. Whereas no matter what she did, be it good or bad, it was held up against all previous misdemeanors dating back twenty years.

“The whole town doesn’t love you, Libby.”

“The people with power do. You might want to take that bastard child of yours and leave town.”

Jess slapped Libby’s face so hard her palm stung. Then she opened the door and walked away.

Alice and Holly sat on the pier, taking advantage of the last of the late autumn sunshine before it dropped too low and the chill struck, reminding everyone winter was coming. Alice had lost her initial reservations about tutoring Holly during their first session a few weeks earlier, when she realized that teaching was a loose term. The reality was, Harry was paying her to draw while she gave some tips and encouragement to his daughter.

Knowing that she was taking his money to indulge herself in something she loved made her squirm a little. When those moments of guilt struck, she reminded herself that she did put time and effort into each session. She was already planning for when the weather got too cold to be outside and was excited about exploring some different mediums with Holly. With her work at Summerhouse, her opinion pieces for the Gazette, her occasional bar and boat jobs and tutoring Holly, her bank balance was finally edging forward.

“Aren’t you drawing the seal too?” Holly asked.

Alice’s own experience of having her work compared with others meant she never drew the same thing as Holly. Alice didn’t want to give her student any excuse to say, “Yours is better,” or “I’m not good enough.”

“I’ve drawn Salty lots of times already. Today I’m fascinated by the way the sun’s dancing around that bollard.”

“You should draw that bird too. It’s cool how it hangs its wings out like that.”

“It’s a cormorant drying its wings. Also, I’m not great at drawing birds.”

Holly’s pencil stalled on her sketch pad. “Dad says the only way to get better is to practice.”