Metaworld HopeCore

To Eppie, Valorie’s near-silent moans felt agonising until Sir Justin Woodhouse filled the doorway with immense relief.

He approached Vaughan first.

"Madam."

"Justin."

Universal's Creative Director looked at the room—the bandages, the dressing, the general evidence associated with launching a terracotta pot into the stratosphere—and chose silence. A dozen paces later, he reached Valorie’s side.

“I am sorry, Sir Woodhouse,” Valorie mumbled.

Eppie felt a zap of electricity surge through her chest. So you CAN say sorry! Where’s mine?!

Whatever passed between them was brief, without audible words, and inaccessible to someone like Eppie. Val stood. She pulled the blanket from her shoulders and folded it with the neatness of someone raised with an etiquette tutor.

She did not look at Eppie.

Woodhouse turned to Eppie in Valorie’s place.

He gazed at her with immense discomfort, induced by, Eppie surmised, a fairly complete picture of how the evening's theatre had ended and what role a fifteen-year-old girl in a ripped Givenchy had played.

The man settled on directness.

"Miss Fontaine." He paused. "Thank you for helping Valorie come to her senses."

The man was sincere. Eppie accepted it.

"I should also note," Woodhouse added with a smile, straightening, resuming the facade of the British socialite, "that this changes nothing between myself and Director Curon. We remain competitors in every professional capacity. See you at the Grammys, Miss Fontaine."

"Naturally," said Eppie, feeling like she should extend an Austenian hand for Woodhouse to kiss.

Woodhouse eyed her bandaged hands, gave her a precise nod, then held the door open for Valorie. Valorie moved toward the exit. At the threshold, she stopped.

She turned. Not all the way. Just enough. God, that dress is ridiculous. Eppie had to change the direction of her gaze.

Thank you. Maybe Valorie said it. Maybe Eppie imagined it. She didn't know. All she saw was someone who had some very difficult choices to make, and most likely didn't have the strength to pull it through, at least not without further encouragement.