“Miguel knows,” Caitlyn whispered. “He’s the only one at the college.”

  “You told a faculty member?” The words came out in a dangerous growl. Ruth had wondered about Miguel, but she’d convinced herself Caitlyn wouldn’t be that reckless.

  “Um,” Chloe said in a squeaky voice, “I’m the one who told him. But he’s my best friend at work. He would never tell anyone—I swear.”

  Ruth clenched her jaw. “Who else?”

  “Our mom,” Caitlyn said. “But you don’t have to worry about her. She’s terrified that we’ll get in trouble. That’s it, right?” She turned to Chloe.

  “Well, almost.” Chloe chewed her lip. “Nick knows.”

  “Nick?” Ruth asked. “Who the hell is Nick?”

  “My ex-boyfriend. The one I stayed with in Colorado. But I had to tell him. I had to explain why he couldn’t tag me on Facebook or Instagram or anything.”

  “Did you…” Ruth attempted to calm herself. “Did your relationship end on bad terms?”

  Chloe’s face crumpled. “You could say that. He dumped me.”

  “But he’s not angry with you,” Caitlyn said. “Right?”

  “No,” Chloe said. “He feels bad. Today he sent me a text with the crying emoji—the one people use for real crying, not the fake crying one. He would never do anything to hurt me. I mean, except for breaking up with me.”

  Ruth rubbed the bridge of her nose. “So aside from Miguel, your mother, and Chloe’s ex-boyfriend, does anyone else know?”

  “No,” they said at the same time.

  “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. Chloe, you’re going to resign, effective immediately. Don’t give an explanation. Just quit. I want this via email by the end of the day. Do you understand?”

  They both nodded.

  “Did you bring your badge and your keys?”

  Chloe pulled the items out of her purse and set them on the table.

  Ruth snatched them. “Do you have any other items belonging to Pulaski?”

  “Yes,” Caitlyn said quietly. “Some library books.” She reached for a canvas bag at her feet and pulled out a stack of five books.

  Ruth caught the words Sociology and Family on one of the spines. She’d wondered if Caitlyn had availed herself of college resources for her sociology research. Apparently, she had. “Did you leave anything in the desk that could identify you as Caitlyn? Any personal documents?”

  “No,” Caitlyn said. “Never.”

  “Fine. Human resources will mail your belongings to the address on file. You will not set foot on campus ever again—either of you—and you will not tell a soul what you’ve done. Chloe worked for me until Friday, and then she quit. That’s the story, and all three of us will stick to it. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” they said in unison.

  Was this some annoying twin thing?

  “If you’re lucky,” Ruth said, “no one will look into it further, and you won’t get the punishment you deserve. If someone finds out…” She shook her head. What could she say? They’d all be fucked.

  “I’ll take the blame,” Caitlyn said. “If they somehow figure it out, I’ll say I never told you anything. You thought I was Chloe the whole time.”

  “If they find out, it won’t matter.” Ruth glared at her. “I trusted you, and that’s on me. I should have seen what you really are.”

  Caitlyn flinched backward as though she’d been slapped, then dropped her gaze to the table.

  “Caitlyn is a really good person,” Chloe said. “She never would have done this if I hadn’t asked, and she ended up really liking you. So if you have romantic feelings for her—”

  “Chloe!” Caitlyn swatted her arm.

  “I’m just saying, Caitlyn really cares about you.” Chloe seemed unable to stop babbling. “That’s why she wanted to stay even after I told her to quit.”

  “Excuse me?” Ruth wondered if she’d misheard.

  Caitlyn cringed. “Oh God.”

  “What I mean…” Chloe’s gaze darted back and forth between them. “After I spent some time with Nick, I decided to stay in Colorado. So I told Caitlyn she could go ahead and quit my job. But she asked to stay for a few more weeks.”

  Ruth’s breath came out in a hiss. “When was this?”

  Chloe looked over at Caitlyn, who regarded her with murderous eyes. “It was after the first week,” she said in a tiny voice.

  “The first week?” Ruth was practically shouting. “After one week, you weren’t even helping your sister anymore? You stayed there, lying to my face every day, for what? For fun?”

  “Because I wanted to help you,” Caitlyn said desperately. “You were facing all these problems by yourself, and I wanted to support you.”

  “Bullshit,” Ruth snapped. “You lied to me. From the second you showed up until yesterday, you were lying. That’s not support. It’s betrayal.”

  “I’m sorry.” Caitlyn’s voice cracked.

  Ruth met her watery eyes with a cold stare. “So am I.” She stood and collected the badge, keys, and books. “Send the resignation tonight. And then we’re through.”

  She marched to her car without looking back.

  * * *

  Ruth stopped by Human Resources first thing Monday morning. She found the HR director, Keith Reeves, slurping coffee at his desk. “Excuse me.” Then she remembered to add, “Good morning.”

  “Dr. Holloway! Good morning.” His chair screeched as he sat up straight and put his cup down. “Have a seat.”

  Why does he look so nervous? Then she remembered—the article. Perhaps he thought she wanted to punish or fire those responsible. If only.

  Ruth remained standing. “This won’t take long. I wanted to let you know Chloe Taylor resigned over the weekend, effective immediately. She’ll need her access revoked, her account disabled, and so on.”

  “Ah, really? I’m sorry to hear that. You liked her, right?”

  The words were like a corkscrew twisting into Ruth’s heart. I liked her too much. “Her performance was…uneven.”

  “Oh really? I didn’t interact with her much, but she seemed like a sweet girl.”

  “Well, she’s gone, so it doesn’t matter,” Ruth said firmly. “I’ll forward her resignation when I reach my desk. Please handle it right away and then post her position. I’ll borrow an admin for the time being, but I need a new assistant.” The work wasn’t urgent, but Ruth couldn’t stand to walk by an empty desk day after day. Not after everything that had happened.

  “Understood. I’ll post it today.” He picked up a pen and scribbled something on a sticky note.

  “Thank you.” Ruth turned and walked out, giving tight nods to the staff she passed on the way. She wondered how many had read the article. Probably all of them. After all, it had been out for several days now.

  When she turned the corner to the hallway that led to her office, Jenn Christiansen and Kimberly were loitering out front.

  What the hell do they want?

  Kimberly should have had the sense to stay out of sight after speaking to that reporter, and Jenn should have known that Ruth would be in no mood for one of her complaints.

  “Did we have an appointment?” Ruth knew perfectly well that they didn’t.

  “No,” Jenn said. “We were hoping to catch you before your day got busy.”

  Kimberly smoothed her dress and offered an anxious smile.

  Ruth unlocked the doors to the suite, tensing as her gaze fell on the vacant assistant’s desk. “Fine. I can give you a couple of minutes.” In reality, she didn’t have a meeting until ten, but they didn’t need to know that.

  Jenn and Kimberly settled at the conference table while Ruth stashed her purse in her desk drawer.

  Ruth gazed longingly at the Caramello bars, then shoved the drawer shut. She sat at the head of the table. “Well?”

  Kimberly twisted the wedding ring on her finger. “I’ll go first. I wanted to tell you I had no idea how my quote would be used. Steve said it was for a story about trends in higher education, and the reporter took it out of context. I would never intentionally participate in a negative story about you. Never.” Her nerves were clearly not an act; she looked ready to faint.

  “That’s good to know.” Ruth tempered her tone.

  Jenn stuck out her jaw. “The article was the biggest load of crap I’ve ever seen. That’s what I came to say.”

  Ruth’s head jerked. Since when was Jenn on her side?

  “Some of us are writing a letter in response,” Jenn added. “We’re going to submit it as an editorial.”

  “A letter?” Ruth couldn’t hide her surprise.

  “Yes. A good one. Steve shouldn’t get away with this—and someone needs to call out that hack reporter for his shady tactics.” Jenn crossed her arms.

  Kimberly’s head bobbed. “We already started drafting it. We talk about everything you’re doing for enrollment, and we make it clear that you have our full support. My whole department is going to sign.”

  “I’m…” Ruth was lost for words. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t always agree with you,” Jenn said. “But that’s how it’s supposed to be. You push us to worry about money and metrics so the place doesn’t get shut down, and we push back to make sure we stay true to our mission. That’s good for the college.”

  “I didn’t know you saw it that way.” Jenn certainly hadn’t behaved as though she valued Ruth’s perspective.

  Jenn barked out a laugh. “Well, I have to be a pain in the ass. I’m a stubborn old academic. It’s what I do. But I know better than to chase out a perfectly good president because I don’t always get my way.” She turned serious. “Look, you haven’t always listened to faculty or even included us. But I can see that you’re starting to change. I especially see it in the enrollment work group you started. If you keep doing things like that, we’ll get along well enough.”

  “Fair enough. I’m glad you appreciate the work group.” Caitlyn’s work group. Ruth never would have started the group without her. Despite her anger, she had to admit that Caitlyn had helped her—and not just with analytics. Caitlyn had encouraged her to treat faculty as partners, and now she had several coming to her defense.

  “We should get out of your hair.” Jenn pushed to her feet. “I know you’re busy.”

  Kimberly still looked worried. “Yes, we’ll let you go. I’m just so sorry for talking to that awful reporter. You have my support—I promise.”

  “I appreciate that.” Ruth remained seated at the conference table as they filed out the door.

  Jenn popped her head back in. “Hey, when does Chloe get in?”

  Ruth stiffened. “Actually, Chloe resigned over the weekend.”

  “You’re kidding!” Jenn stepped back into the office. “I can’t believe it!”

  Kimberly walked up behind her. “Wait. Did you say Chloe resigned?”

  “Yes.” Ruth did her best to sound calm.

  “Why?” Kimberly asked. “She was wonderful—so much more than an assistant. Oh, is that why she left? Did she find a better job?”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t discuss personnel matters.” Ruth realized she’d implied there was a story. “Not that there’s much to discuss. The bottom line is that she won’t be back.”

  “Well, that stinks!” Jenn said. “I bet you’ll miss her.”

  “Such a shame,” Kimberly agreed.

  They left again, and the doors to the suite hissed shut behind them.

  Ruth continued to sit at the conference table, staring blankly at the wall.

  The worst part was that she did miss Caitlyn. She’d spent the weekend fuming about the lies, but now that she was alone in her office, the reality sank in. She would never see Caitlyn again.

  She closed her eyes. Damn you for doing this to me.

  * * *

  Ruth spent her morning in a stupor, barely saying a word in her first two meetings. Her next meeting was with Piper, to discuss their official response to the Tribune article.

  Truthfully, Ruth no longer cared. Ever since she’d learned the truth about Caitlyn, Steve’s hit job seemed less important. But she couldn’t explain that to Piper.

  “Knock knock.” Piper pushed through the door, bearing her notepad and a paper plate with a cupcake on top.

  “What’s that for?” Ruth asked.

  Piper set the plate on the conference table. “I thought you could use something sweet.” Her gaze fell on the crumpled Caramello wrapper on Ruth’s desk. “Oh, I’m too late.”

  Ruth got up from her desk and sat at the table. “I’ll take it. Today, there isn’t enough chocolate in the world.” She plucked the cupcake from the plate and peeled off the wrapper, salivating at the whipped chocolate icing with sprinkles.

  “Chloe’s off today?” Piper asked.

  Biting into the cupcake to buy time, Ruth mentally rehearsed her explanation. As much as she wanted to confide in Piper, it was too risky. “Chloe quit over the weekend.”

  “What?” Piper’s eyes widened. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. There was no explanation—she just sent me an email with her resignation, effective immediately.” Ruth hated that Caitlyn’s lies now compelled her to lie to Piper, but too many people knew about the switch already.

  “Well, did you call her?”

  “No, there’s no point. If she doesn’t want to be here, I’m not going to beg her to come back.” Ruth prayed Piper would drop it.

  “But you loved working with her. You talked about giving her a promotion.” Piper searched Ruth’s gaze, then narrowed her eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Piper…” For a moment, she let the mask fall. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

  “Are you sure?” A deep frown creased Piper’s face.

  Ruth nodded miserably.

  “Well, whatever happened, I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.” Ruth stuffed the rest of the cupcake into her mouth.

  Piper stared for another moment, then seemed to give up. She flipped open her notepad. “Well, as for the Tribune, I don’t think we should respond to the article directly. I went back and forth all weekend, but I believe it’s the best move. We can’t push back on the quotes from faculty, and arguing over data will draw more attention to Steve’s narrative.”

  “Actually, some of the faculty are going to respond.”

  “Oh?” Piper quirked an eyebrow.

  “Jenn and Kimberly came to see me this morning. They’re working on a letter to the editor in my defense.”

  “You’re kidding.” Piper’s glasses slid down her nose as her mouth dropped open.

  “Kimberly insists her quote was out of context, and as for Jenn…” Ruth shrugged. “Apparently, she doesn’t hate me.”

  Piper broke into a genuine smile. “Maybe there’s some hope for this place after all.”

  “Maybe.” Ruth stared at the crumbs on her plate. “You know, it was my fault that things got as bad as they did with the faculty.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I should have included them more. Whether I wanted their input or not, it was bad politics to shut them out. And actually, when I gave them a chance, they made some decent points.” Ruth looked up. “I think unconsciously, I thought they would be like my old colleagues in New Mexico—selfish, conniving backstabbers. When I saw the article, I thought I’d been right all along. But now…”

  “Some of them are decent.” Piper’s mouth quirked. “I suppose.”

  “Yeah.” Caitlyn was right. As an academic herself, Caitlyn had diagnosed Ruth’s leadership failures right away. Her advice hadn’t been revolutionary—faculty had asked for shared governance from the start—but Ruth hadn’t taken it seriously until it came from someone who seemed to be on her side.

  Caitlyn had helped her career. But she also broke my heart. Ruth tensed as the thought echoed through her mind. Heartbreak implied love or something like it—but she didn’t love Caitlyn. How could she when Caitlyn had lied? No, she’d been duped into forming a slight attachment, but certainly not love.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her elbows in a soothing motion.

  “What’s wrong?” Piper asked. “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing.” Ruth shook her head. Maybe she’d tell Piper someday when it was far behind her, when it didn’t hurt so much.

  Chapter 20

  “Have you heard anything?” Caitlyn’s mom asked quietly.

  Chloe flinched and looked down at her half-eaten plate of spaghetti, while Caitlyn tightened her grip on her fork.

  Their mom knew the question was unwelcome, but Caitlyn had been applying for jobs for three months—ever since she’d left Pulaski. Her mom’s impatience was understandable.

  Caitlyn resigned herself to having the conversation again. “No. I don’t have any job market news. I’ve gotten a couple of rejections, but most schools haven’t contacted me at all.” She paused, battling her annoyance. “Look, if I get an interview, I’ll tell you. Asking me over and over stresses me out.”

  Her mom huffed and straightened in her chair. “Well, I was just wondering. You never talk about it, so how am I supposed to know how it’s going?”

  Caitlyn’s blood pressure increased with her mom’s stress. As usual, she absorbed her mom’s anxiety despite her efforts to remain detached. “There’s literally nothing to tell. I can’t tell you how it’s going if I haven’t heard anything.” Of course, that wasn’t entirely true. Eventually, the absence of news would become an answer. There was no single moment of definitive rejection on the academic job market. Instead, the odds grew bleaker as the weather turned colder. The chill of mid-November was a bad sign, and they all knew it.

  After dinner, it was Caitlyn’s turn to clean up. Her mom wandered off to the living room, and Chloe squeezed Caitlyn’s shoulder before heading upstairs.