Elodie looked to Tilly. “Hi,” she said brightly. “I’m Elodie.”

Kate stepped back, gesturing for Tilly to move closer. “Sorry,” she apologised. “Where are my manners?” Her cheeks heated in embarrassment. “El, this is Tilly.”

As Tilly shook Elodie’s hand, a look of surprise flashed on her face. She quickly hid it. “You went to school together, right?” She looked between them. “Kate mentioned your name often.”

A wave of guilt swept over her at Elodie’s polite, feigned ignorance. Elodie knew all about Tilly, about their belltower kisses. For the entire time they’d dated, it had been a private, running joke between them. Every time Kate had teased Elodie for her youthful obsession with straight girls, Elodie had retorted, “Yeah, tease me all you want, Casanova, but at least I never tried it on a nun.”

Kate cleared her throat. “Tilly and I teach together at St. Joan’s.” She gestured to the group of girls in front. “We’re on an overnight excursion.”

The crowd moved forward. Elodie followed after Kate and Tilly. “You took the position on the island?”

Kate nodded.

Elodie’s expression brightened. “Good for you.” Smiling widely, she set her gaze on Tilly. She looked her up and down in her little black dress. Her curiosity turned to confusion. “Do you belong to that order?”

Oh God. Oh, Jesus Christ…

Tilly raised an eyebrow.

“On the island?” Elodie clarified. “The sisters?”

Kate wet her lips. “Tilly’s not a nun.”

Elodie’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Kate always said that she had a friend who was a nun.” Elodie looked between them. “I’ve gotten it mixed up.” She pressed a hand to her cheek. “I’m so embarrassed. I must have the wrong person.”

Kate bit back a smile. Elodie’s penchant for pointing out exactly how she was feeling had always been one of the most endearing—and amusing—facets of her warm personality.

Shaking her head, Tilly forced a smile. “Don’t worry about it. And you’re right—that was me.”

Elodie swallowed. “Right.”

The last call bell chimed persistently. Lexi turned on the step above. “Tilly, do you have a nail file I can borrow?”

Tilly hunted in her bag. “It’s in here somewhere…”

Kate’s gaze locked with Elodie’s. Understanding passed between them. Smirking, Elodie folded her jacket over her arm. She shifted closer to the bannister, purposely moving out of Tilly’s earshot. “We should get a drink,” she whispered. Her cheeks coloured as she stared up at Kate. “What are you doing after the show?”

Kate looked down at her. “I’m with the kids. I have to get them back to the hotel.”

She looked up. “And after?”

“El…we can’t.”

“Why?”

“You know why…”

“But you’re thinking about it.”

The fact that she was considering it was written plainly across her face. It was one thing they’d never been very smart about—knowing when to stop. It was the reason why their breakup had been so long and so painful—because when they’d put an end to it, they still hadn’t put an end to it.