Page 68 of Two Hit Wonder

Silence on the other end. Then: "Are you at risk right now?"

"No." Maeve paused, made herself think about it properly. "Maybe. I don't know. I'm angry. And hurt. And when I'm like this, I make stupid decisions."

"Good. That's honest." Glinna's tone shifted, becoming brisk. "Now listen to me carefully. Iona's fear isn't about your present. It's about her past. She watched you destroy yourself once. She's terrified of watching it happen again."

"That doesn't make it fair."

"No. It doesn't. But since when has fear been fair?" A pause. "You have a choice to make, Maeve. You can let one moment of doubt erase everything you're working on right now. Or you can remember that she's scared because she cares, and scared people don't always react well."

Maeve said nothing. Her throat felt tight.

"There's a meeting tomorrow morning," Glinna continued, Maeve could hear her clicking on her laptop, looking it up. "Eight o'clock, church hall on Westbourne Grove. Go."

"I don't need—"

"Go anyway. Call me after."

She hung up before Maeve could argue.

THE MEETING WAS in a drafty church hall that reminded Maeve of her old school gym. She sat in a plastic chair near the back and listened to strangers talk about their worst days. A man who'd lost his wife. A woman who'd crashed her car into a playground fence at two in the afternoon. A kid, barely twenty, who'd woken up in a hospital with no memory of how he'd gotten there.

She didn't share. She never shared at meetings she didn't know. But she listened, and she remembered, and by the time it was over, something had loosened in her chest.

Outside, the morning was gray and damp. London in its natural state. Maeve stood on the church steps and finally breathed.

Iona had known the old her. The drinking her. The one who'd lied and broken promises and let everyone down. Of course she'd jumped to conclusions when she saw that bottle. Of course her first instinct had been fear. Maeve had given her years of reasons to be afraid. That didn't mean Maeve had to accept it. But it meant she could understand it.

She pulled out her phone. Three missed calls from Cam, two from Ellie, nothing from Iona. And one text from an unexpected number.

maeve. the girls at school don't believe i know you. they think i'm lying. it's very annoying. like, even my mum’s famous but they don’t think that counts.

Mo. Maeve felt herself smile for the first time in hours.

She typed back: What would help?

The reply came immediately: idk. they’re idiots.

Maeve thought for a moment. Then she started making calls.

AT GOING HOME time, she pulled up outside Mo's school in a stretch limousine.

It was ridiculous. Completely, absurdly ridiculous. The limo was white, the kind of thing you'd hire for a hen party or a prom, and Maeve felt like an idiot sitting in the back of it. But the driver had been professional, the rental company had been discreet, and the look on Mo's face when she emerged from the school gates was worth every penny.

"Oh my god." Mo stopped dead on the pavement, staring. "Oh my god."

"Get in," Maeve called through the open window. "Before your teachers start asking questions."

Mo scrambled into the car so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet. The door slammed behind her, and she sat there, wide-eyed, taking in the leather seats and the minibar and the little TV screen. "This is insane. This is actually insane. Is this real?"

"It's real."

"Can we drive past the gates again? Slowly? So everyone sees?"

"That seems petty."

"Please?"

Maeve sighed. "Driver, one more loop around the block."