Page 116 of Rhodes

Whoever's name is on the deed. That isn't Granger, and it isn't anybody holding a lease. It's Banksie.

"Once your title-holder gets a delineator out there and files the request, it moves. But it's got to start with him." I hear paper shuffle on his end, a chair. "Anyway. Glad you called. You let me know if the family needs anything else out there, all right? Happy to help."

"Thank you."

"Take care, Mr. Stone."

The line clicks.

I sit there with the phone against my jaw a second before I lower it. My thumb doesn't move. I don't scroll or dial.

Call Monday, take it back, nobody ever knows.

The Corps has the question now, and the only person who can move the thing forward is Banksie. To get him to file it, I have to explain how I know it needs filing. Which means Banksie will have to know, which means Granger will find out.

Which means eventually she will know.

There isn't a version of this where I stay quiet and it gets fixed.

Class in nine minutes, but I can't move.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Tilly

The False Wall: A wall built later and finished to look original, standing in front of the part of the house nobody wanted assessed. Inspectors open those last, and what waits behind one is always worse for having waited.

The library doors sigh shut behind me, and the heat wraps around me all at once. My laptop's still warm against my hip through the bag. I've got a determination request half-drafted in my head and three district names to look up when I get home.

Then I see him at the bottom of the steps. Rhodes is standing there with his hands in his pockets, wearing a white button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, his strong forearms peeking out. He watches me come out, but he doesn't smile when he sees me.

I come down fast, grinning.

"Okay, you are the last person I expected to see standing here. Did you get lost on your way to Loyola, or did you want to come check out the real university in New Orleans?"

I'm already reaching for him, my hand going toward his forearm the way it does now without asking him first.

He doesn't catch it or turn his arm into my hand the way he always does. He stands there and lets my fingers land and slide off.

"I tried calling you and texting."

"Oh, yeah. My phone died. I forgot to plug it in last night."

"We need to talk. Do you have class right now, or can we sit down?"

His voice is wrong. It comes out level and careful, not the warm, playful way we normally talk to each other.

"Sure." I shrug the bag higher. "You're scaring me. Is something wrong?”

"Maybe we should go home for privacy."

I stop walking. My feet just quit.

"Is somebody hurt?" It comes out faster than I mean it to, sharp. "Is it Coop? Rhodes. Tell me what's going on."

"Nobody's hurt." He says it right away, and I believe him. "But this is important. That's why I came here to find you."

"I don't want to go home. I want you to tell me right now whatever it is you want to talk to me about."