The night after I met Aidan O’Hanlon I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I kept seeing Delia in my mind, sitting among the white stones, reading a book. How could I be sure she was in love with O’Hanlon? The Grissom feller had said they were a pair, but was he only having me on? I kept thinking until I was almost astray in the head. What if buying up his leases wasn’t hurting O’Hanlon that much? What if he had more money behind him than Sullivan thought? After all, Kearney had said he had a partner. Yes, I’d pried a lot of his leases right out from under his nose, but maybe most of those would never pay off.

My thoughts turned to Mrs. Shaw. Some things about me hadn’t changed under her influence. I still loved style and flirting and being admired. I still had a quick temper and was quick to put people in their place. And I wasn’t shy about criticizing people when they deserved it. My tongue could be as salty as ever, and I knew a fraud when I met one. But some other things had changed a lot. Reluctant as I was to show it, I felt a kindness and concern for people in trouble that I had never had before. I would think twice now before I hurt somebody who had never done me harm. And right now that person was Delia. I wanted to curse Mrs. Shaw for making my life so complicated; instead, I cradled her locket in my fingers and drifted to sleep.

By the next morning I had made up my mind. Sullivan had paid me to the end of the week, so I would continue to work until then. I would visit all the remaining prospects on my list, but I wouldn’t press them too much to sign with S&K. That should be enough to satisfy James Sullivan that I had done everything he wanted. After that, I would travel back to New York and hope that I hadn’t hurt Aidan O’Hanlon too much. I buried the thought that by not seeing Delia before leaving, I was being a coward.

Relieved that I had a plan, I was about to step out of my room when a bellman appeared with a message. Instead of going straight to Shotgun City, I was to stop at S&K Exploration offices first. What now? I wondered. When I arrived there Shane Kearney, the geologist feller, Harris, and the rat-faced Grissom stood huddled together. They stopped talking when I came in. Grissom glared at me, and I glared back. If Kearney noticed—and I was sure he did—he passed no remarks. We all sat down. Kearney turned toward me.

“Listen carefully now, Miss Sweeney,” he began. “We have some news that will affect your assignment, you hear?”