Chapter Fourteen
St. SebastianPresent Day
At some point, Becket turns on his music, and the conversation moves from rituals to gossip about people I’ve never been rich enough to meet. I’m mostly grateful for the shift, although there’s an old, familiar bitterness at being on the outside of their world. A bitterness soothed somewhat by seeing that Poe is just as lost as I am at picking apart the Olivers from the Tobys and that she also has no idea whether the Plum they’re laughing about is the name of a girl or maybe someone’s pet.
She drifts over to where I’m leaning against the edge of one of the long tables, and then she perches herself atop it. She’s short enough that her legs swing off the floor after she’s sat, and the hem of her tweed skirt pulls higher on her thighs, which are
