Clumsily, I grabbed the bulky black folds. I pulled her to me and held her. She was so insubstantial that it felt like holding someone else. But when she gave me that look, her dimpled half-smile . . .

Despite my intentions, we started to kiss.

Immediately it felt wrong. Our movements were the same but her breath had the sharpness of fasting. Her saliva was bitter and metallic; her boniness was disturbing. We’d never kissed without an audience, and I wanted to lose myself in it. But I couldn’t.

Sabine broke away, tossing her head. Flecks of yellow light reflected in her eyes. Her face became closed, distant. “Goodbye, Meggie.”

I stared at her.

Then she said, “That’s it. We’re done.”

Everything was over.

And in that moment, I saw her again as I had in the office when I opened my eyes and she was there. Fascinating, free, unreachable . . . and way beyond anything I’d ever be.

I was just somebody who’d followed her for a short while. Somebody whose hand now reached out and slapped her face. Hard.

Her cheeks colored. “What was that for?”

She slapped me back but a play slap, a kitten slap.

My cheek didn’t sting but my eyes did.

“Why d’you leave me in the club?” I heard myself say. “These guys—”

“It’s always these guys—”

I stared at her. “What?”

“You get out of it, and then you’re absolutely—”

“And you can talk, Sabine?”

“With you, it’s different. Like Earl says, you don’t respect yourself.”

“Really?” The night slowed down. “What else has Earl said?”

“Nothing, Meggie.” She looked confused, then concerned.

“Don’t pretend to care, Sabine. Where were you that day?”

“What day?”

“After the club—”

“I told you, I left a message. My mother asked me to go home.”

I shook my head. “I saw you in the Mayfair flat.”

“So you were spying?”

“I needed you!”

“Why couldn’t you just say?”

“Like you just say things? Let’s work three weeks in a row, let’s go to Brazil? And then you disappear.”

“You didn’t want me, Meggie. Already by then you had decided.”

I clenched my fists. “For a year and a half, I have fitted in with your life, Sabine. With how you led it. With what you wanted.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“What do you know about me after your year and a half?”

My breath was uneven; my head throbbed.

“You used me,” she continued. “Used, then dropped. Like you dropped Graham—”

My arm went back intending another slap. But my fist was tight, my body was tight. I swung at her full force.

She turned but into the punch. My ring hit bone. Her head kept moving with the impact but she didn’t stumble or fall.

There was a pause. Stillness.

What have I done?

Slowly, she looked back at me.