“Nope. Here.” Carys pointed to a set of ordinary concrete steps against a retaining wall. She looped Teacup’s lead around the handrail, tying it in a knot. “I’ll be right back, sweetie,” she said, stroking his nose. “He doesn’t do well with stairs,” she explained. “But he’ll be fine here.”

Carys climbed the stairs, and Greta and Horse followed. At the top was a glassed-in overhang and then a walkway perpendicular to the river. When they walked to the end of it, they were a story above the Mississippi and could see for miles.

The sun had begun to set as they walked, and it painted the sky cotton-candy pink, sherbet orange, and a purple the color of a bruise. The clouds reflected them from above, the water from below, the whole vista glowing like a Renaissance painting.

“Wow,” Greta breathed.

“Yeah,” Carys sighed. “This is one of my favorite spots.”

Horse seemed to share her opinion because he plopped down, put his chin on his paws, and stared out at the water.

“Listen,” Carys said. “I have to go in a few minutes and get ready for my tour.”

“Tour?”

“I give haunted tours of the Quarter in the evenings,” she said with a smile.

“I should’ve guessed from your expert storytelling at the convent.”

Carys tipped an imaginary hat in thanks. “Anyway, I wanted to run something by you.”

“Um, what’s up?”

“It’s just, I really. Really. Want to kiss you.”

Greta’s head went empty.

“Wait. I… Oh. What?”

Carys smiled and stood in front of her. She put a hand very gently on Greta’s cheek.

“I would really like to kiss you. And I wonder what you think about that?”

Greta’s heart was pounding so hard she was concerned about toppling off the overpass to the ground below—really, this should have some kind of guard rails. It wasn’t safe!

“Greta? Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m good. Just trying not to pass out.” At the stricken look on Carys’ face, she added, “In a good way.”

Carys laughed.

“Okay, well, maybe I’ll hold on to you just to make sure. And you let me know when you’re done trying not to pass out. In a good way.”

Carys slid her arm around Greta’s waist and rested her cheek against Greta’s shoulder. They stood like that for minutes, watching the colors deepen and the city lights begin to shine against the impending darkness.

“Okay,” Greta said.

Carys turned to her.

“Okay, you feel good about the prospect of me kissing you?” she said, clearly half joking. “Or your almost passing out in a good way is over?”

“Shut the hell up and kiss me already,” Greta said, grinning.