A deep sigh from Anna. “Justin’s working on a little doc project,” she says. “You should know that, just in case you’re shy—”

“Don’t make her worry.” Karo mugs for the camera now that Justin is within earshot. “It’s about the center—our anniversary. We’re almost at one hundred years. Most of what he’s using, he has to dig up in the archives. But I wanted a little something else. Flavor of the place.”

Maeve nods to Anna. “You work in film too. Don’t you?”

“We’re all fancy filmmakers here—” Justin arrives beside them and the camera drops to his hip. “But Anna’s work is more…hands-on. Isn’t it, my darling?”

There’s a friction to the comment that Maeve doesn’t understand, but she’s beginning to see that they’ve all got their loyalties established already—and their tensions too. Anna simply turns and holds up her stained fingers.

“He means I’m actually fancy,” she says. “Experimental horror; I get my hands dirty.” She turns back to Justin, offering him a pointed smile. “That is what you meant, right? My darling?”

“No fighting,” Karo says, cutting them off. Then, to Maeve: “And no more skipping meals! We’re very secluded here; your social time is important—” She steps away, buttoning her coat. “I think this evening, we’ll go for a little soak downstairs. After dinner, yes? You know we’re sitting on top of a natural spa, right? Shake off your work goals. It’s good for you.”

Maeve feels a stitch tighten in her stomach.

“I bet Justin’ll come,” Anna says. “Won’t you, Justin?”

“Beauty bar? Hell yes.”

“You’ll have to strip down to your skivvies,” Anna says, fussing over him. “But—keep the scarf, I think. You know, so we can identify the body in case of…accident.”

He turns to Maeve. “Don’t worry: Anna only pretends to be queen bitch. She’s actually in love with me.”

Justin winks. He’s a little bit full of himself, Maeve can see that. He’s also young. Thirty at the outside, if she had to guess. So maybe he’s full of himself and rightly so?

“And?” He’s still looking at her, at Maeve.

“Maeve Martin,” she says. “Here for thirteen more days, less for the spa and—” She wants to wink back, but it doesn’t feel natural. Instead, she just shrugs. “More to reinvent my career completely, whichever comes first.”

“No, you can’t talk like this!” Karo stamps her foot playfully. “A steam will be good for your muscles, you’ll see.”

“Balance, baby.” Justin pulls out a hat and adjusts it on his head. It’s a beanie, but in a distinguished charcoal. He gestures to Maeve’s apple. “What is that, dancer’s rations? The Bolshoi breakfast special.”