“Wait.” Corinne grabbed her wrist before she could get up. “Don’t you want to talk about Saint?”
The feeling of contentment Ada had managed to cultivate shattered. She slid her legs off the couch and started wiping down her violin with the felt cloth she kept in her case.
“He’s a coward and a snitch,” Ada said. “What else is there to talk about?”
“He’s been our friend for years.”
“That’s what I thought too, but friends don’t push your head onto the chopping block to save their own neck.” She shoved her violin into the case, a little more roughly than she intended.
“He was scared,” Corinne said. “I’m not defending him, Ada, but can’t you—”
“If it were you instead of him, would you have sold me out?” Ada asked. She snapped the case shut and faced Corinne. “If you were scared and alone in a room with the HPA threatening to send you to lockup, would you have turned on me?”
Corinne shook her head. She didn’t even hesitate.
When they were twelve years old, the day that Ada had decided to move out of the Cast Iron and away from her insufferable new roommate, a member of Johnny’s crew had muttered a racial slur within earshot. Ada had ignored it, as she always had, because it was easier that way. But Corinne, who had not managed a kind word for Ada since the moment they’d met, called the man out in a room full of people and demanded an apology.
He had begrudgingly given one, but only after Johnny had come into the room to see what the commotion was. The incident accomplished nothing but to make the man hate both of them equally. Ada never forgot it, though—not because she had needed Corinne’s help, but because she knew that Corinne’s strange brand of loyalty was not to be taken lightly. Something had changed between them that day, and though it wasn’t something that Ada could readily identify, she had not left the Cast Iron after all.
“I know Saint was scared,” Ada said. “So was I. But I kept my mouth shut, and he didn’t, so how am I supposed to ever trust him again?”
It was not a question with an answer. Ada stood and picked up her case. She knew it wasn’t fair to ask Corinne to stop being friends with Saint, but she also knew she didn’t have to. Corinne would have already made that decision herself.
And, deep down, there was a part of Ada that just wanted to punish him.
She didn’t want to examine that part of herself too closely. It was easier to lock it away like her violin in its case. It was easier to just forget about Saint and the wildflower painting and all the other gifts and jokes and small comforts throughout the past several years. Remembering only made the nightmares about the asylum worse, because it meant that her incarceration hadn’t been bad luck or even justice for her crimes. The terror and the sleepless nights had been done to her by someone she trusted and loved.
Ada didn’t think she could live with that.
CHAPTER FOUR
Pickings were slim at breakfast the next morning. Apparently the cook had decided to take the day off. Saint was sitting alone at one of the tables in the club, staring into a coffee cup. Corinne and Ada ignored him, sitting on the opposite side of the room. It was a surreal experience for Corinne. Just a few weeks ago the three of them had been sitting at this same table, cutting up about something inconsequential. Ada was teasing Saint about one of the new delivery boys, and Saint was blushing to the tips of his ears. Corinne remembered laughing until she couldn’t breathe.
Today she and Ada ate their breakfast without saying much. Ada was sitting with her back to Saint, but Corinne could see that his presence had stiffened her shoulders and tightened the corners of her mouth. Corinne couldn’t help but peek past her to gauge how Saint was doing. She had never gone this long without speaking to him before. His expression wasn’t as forlorn as she expected, and he was staring hard across the room. She followed his line of sight to the stage, which was empty except for a couple of chairs and a forgotten microphone stand. There was also something white in the center of it that looked like an egg, of all things. It was still too early in the morning for Corinne to wrap her mind around that particular oddity, and when Ada noticed her staring, she looked back at her food without a word.
Gabriel came in at precisely half past ten, looking more awake than anyone else. Corinne couldn’t understand how he managed to be clean-shaven at this hour, with his slacks and shirt neatly pressed. He nodded at Corinne and Ada but went straight downstairs, no doubt headed for Johnny’s office.
Jackson sauntered in a few minutes later, trailed by Tom Glenn, a drifter whom Johnny had hired a few years back to help with the shipments at the wharf, when they had started coming nightly. Glenn and Jackson were laughing raucously about something. Jackson tipped his cap to Corinne, but she ignored him. He didn’t take the hint and came over to their table, resting both his hands on the wood.
“Morning, ladies.”
“Morning,” Ada said, managing a smile.