“Here, come have a seat.” He gestured to the tables. “It’s an intimate group today. Kimberly brought cookies.”

  “O-okay.” Caitlyn’s heart raced as she followed him. Why hadn’t she said she was in the wrong room? Now leaving would only draw more attention to the fact that she had come at all.

  She gave the other faculty a tight smile as she sat at one of the tables. Was she supposed to know them? She prayed none of them had interacted with Chloe at length.

  “Welcome,” a tall woman with frizzy auburn hair said. “Have some cookies!” She pointed to a box of sugar cookies with rainbow M&Ms.

  “Thanks.” What had the man called her? Kimberly. Caitlyn committed the name to memory as she selected a cookie and put it on a napkin. Perhaps in a pinch, she could stuff it in her mouth and pretend to choke.

  “Have as many as you want. Joe already had two.” Kimberly shot a playful smile at the man who had greeted Caitlyn.

  Joe. Now only two names remained a mystery, assuming the presenter was Will.

  “I’ll probably be good with one.” The cookies were almost the size of her hand. “But thanks.”

  An older man peered at her through round spectacles. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you a student?”

  “This is Chloe,” Joe said. “You know, Dr. Holloway’s assistant.”

  “Hmm.” His bushy white eyebrows moved up and down as he appraised her. “Welcome. I’m Ted Kahill.”

  “Nice to meet you.” As the faculty turned their attention elsewhere, Caitlyn began to calm down. She’d made it through the greetings without raising suspicion. All she had to do was sit through the talk, remain silent during the discussion, and get out as soon as it was over. What was the worst that could happen?

  “Dr. Holloway!” Joe jumped from his chair.

  Oh dear mother of God.

  Ruth Holloway strode toward them, a polite smile adorning her face—until she saw Caitlyn. She did a literal double take, then approached with a baffled expression.

  Caitlyn’s stomach lurched. “Hi.”

  Ruth fixed a penetrating gaze on her. “What are you doing here?”

  “Um. I saw a flier, and—” Caitlyn’s gaze fell on the cookies. “I heard there would be food.” She looked helplessly at Joe. “It’s open to staff.”

  Oblivious to her misery, Joe gave her a warm smile. “We’re delighted to have two representatives from administration here.”

  “Yes. Wonderful.” Ruth sat across from Caitlyn, appearing disoriented as she adjusted her blazer.

  Caitlyn squirmed, now feeling guilty on top of everything else. Given the contentious relationship between Ruth and the faculty, Caitlyn imagined Ruth already felt self-conscious at these events. Her assistant’s presence had made her even more uncomfortable.

  I only wanted to hear the talk.

  “Thank you all for coming.” Will rubbed his palms together. “It’s a small group today, but that means we’ll have time for all of your questions.” He nodded at Ruth. “It’s an honor to have you here, Dr. Holloway. And your assistant, Chloe.”

  Ruth’s gaze flicked to Caitlyn for a split second, then she looked back at Will. “I’m so glad I could make it.”

  Caitlyn contorted her lips into what she hoped was a smile.

  “So!” Will threaded his fingers and stretched out his arms. “I’m going to present some analysis of the latest National Election Survey, in particular how views on how racial inequality relate to voting patterns…”

  As Will explained his project, Ruth eyed Caitlyn with obvious suspicion.

  She knows I don’t belong here. Did Ruth think she had some ulterior motive for attending? Or perhaps she wondered if “Chloe” had misrepresented herself as—well, the type of person who would never voluntarily attend an academic presentation.

  Caitlyn supposed it was a blessing that the truth was so outrageous. Whatever Ruth thought was going on, she was unlikely to fathom that she was sitting across from a completely different person.

  Anyway, an employee attending events on campus should be a good thing. What could Ruth do—scold her for taking an interest?

  Seized with an urge to stress-eat, Caitlyn bit into the cookie. Maybe she’d have two after all.

  * * *

  As Will droned on about his research, Ruth fixed her gaze on the screen. She nodded here and there to show interest, but her mind was preoccupied with a completely different question.

  What the hell was Chloe doing there?

  In her two months of employment, Chloe had seemed utterly disinterested in the college beyond her assigned duties. From the first day, she’d presented herself as only there for a paycheck. Yet there she was, staying late to attend an academic lecture.

  On top of that, Chloe looked different. Her face was fresh and open, almost a different shape, and there was something else… Ah. The plastic eyelashes were gone. Chloe must have removed them after work. Ruth wished she would leave them off more often so her bright, hazel eyes could stand on their own.

  Snap out of it. Ruth admonished herself for contemplating Chloe’s appearance when she had more pressing concerns. Who was this woman who paid attention to percentage calculations and stayed late to learn about voting rates? Where had she been for two months?

  Whatever was going on, Chloe’s presence raised all sorts of unnerving possibilities. Ruth had thought Chloe didn’t have any friends on the faculty—except for the poetry professor, Miguel, who hung out at her desk sometimes. But when Ruth overheard snippets of their conversations as she walked past, they were usually discussing The Bachelor or some inane pop culture nonsense, not anything related to the college.

  How did Chloe know Joe? Did she talk to Joe about Ruth? What if she was a spy, leaking Ruth’s private conversations to the faculty?

  Ruth recognized that her thoughts were becoming paranoid. Yet Chloe herself had acted guilty when Ruth appeared. And that line that she was there for the food? Please. Kimberly’s store-bought cookies weren’t worth staying on campus after work.

  Will seemed to be meandering toward the end of his presentation. “So, for the next phase of the project, I’d like to see if similar patterns hold in congressional elections. Carmen Vaughn at the University of Maryland has done some interesting work on how voters think about candidate demographics, so that may be another factor to consider in future studies.”

  He flipped to the final slide, which read: Questions? Wiping his brow, he grinned at his tiny audience. “I’d be happy to answer your questions or to hear any feedback you may have.”

  Everyone turned to Ruth. Were they deferring to her out of respect? Or just curious to see if she’d manage an intelligent response? Fortunately, she had a sense of the project despite her multiple trains of thought.

  Ruth cleared her throat. “Thank you for a great presentation. I especially found it fascinating that as the parties became more polarized, white Democrats adopted more liberal views on race—apparently in response to cues from elites. I wondered if your research suggests this has translated into meaningful action.”

  “That’s a great question,” Will said. “For the most part, no. But at the same time, what we think of as traditional political activism—joining local organizations and lobbying representatives for change—has been declining across the board in favor of time spent on the Internet and social media. So I suppose it depends on whether you consider a tweet to be meaningful action.”

  Ruth smiled. “I’d have to say no.”

  The others chuckled, apparently satisfied with her response.

  Ted raised his hand and launched into a lengthy recitation of his political opinions. Clearly, the actual question, if there was one, wouldn’t come for some time.

  As he rambled on, Ruth wondered if Chloe would join the discussion. She snuck a glance across the table.

  Chloe sat with her hands in her lap, gaze darting between Ruth and the faculty as if she were an unprepared student afraid she’d be called on in class.

  Sure enough, Chloe remained silent throughout the discussion until Kimberly turned to her with motherly concern. “You’ve been quiet, Chloe. What do you think?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Chloe fluttered her bare lashes. “I only came to listen.”

  “You’re a young person. Why do you think so many in your generation have embraced views that are—what do the kids call it? Woke? Do you think it will last?”

  “Um, let me think.” Chloe smoothed her napkin. “I’m twenty-nine, so I’m not that young. But previous generations grew up under a less coherent party system, when racial views weren’t as strongly associated with party identity. So I think it’s possible that young people will maintain their views as they age, now that they’re committed to a party ID—since a party tends to be stable throughout life.” She laughed nervously. “But, like, what do I know?”

  Ruth’s jaw dropped. Where did that come from? She never would have guessed Chloe thought about politics, let alone had insightful thoughts to share.

  “What I mean is that, um…” Chloe studied her hands. “Never mind. That’s it.”

  They all stared at Chloe.

  “That’s a great comment,” Joe said.

  “Thanks.” Chloe took a huge bite of her cookie.

  When the talk broke up, Joe turned to Chloe with a warm smile. “I hope you’ll join us next time.”

  “Yeah, maybe. If I have time.” She shifted awkwardly, then looked at Kimberly. “Thanks for the cookies.”

  “You should take the rest!” Kimberly gestured at the half-full container.

  “Oh, thanks, but I’m good.” Chloe started to leave.

  “I insist. I can’t take these home, or I’ll eat them! And Lord knows I don’t need the calories.” Kimberly slid the carton toward Chloe.

  “Okay, thanks.” Chloe grabbed the cookies with a grim expression and hurried toward the door.

  Ruth wanted to go after her, but the entire point of attending events like this was to network with faculty. She couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye.

  “Thanks again for coming,” Joe said. “You’re always welcome at our events, and Chloe too.”

  “It’s a wonderful series. I’m quite busy, as you can imagine—but I’ll come as often as I can. If you’ll excuse me, I should be getting home.”

  “Someone waiting for you?” Ted asked.

  Ruth tensed at the transparent personal question. None of your damn business. She bit back her real reaction and said firmly, “Good night.”

  When she finally escaped to the hallway, Chloe was long gone.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning, Caitlyn stepped into the office, battling her nerves. She had borrowed her entire outfit from Chloe—a white blouse, plus a tight, pink skirt with a ruffled trim and a slit up the side. Her false eyelashes were back in place, itchy as ever, and her lips were sticky with bold magenta lipstick. If she’d appeared out of character the previous evening, the look would assure Ruth that her assistant was the same Chloe she’d always known—she hoped.

  Ruth’s door was ajar. Should she stop in and say something?

  Good morning. You might be wondering why I attended an academic lecture for the first time in my entire life…

  Yeah, right. Concocting some bullshit explanation would only amplify Ruth’s suspicions. Instead, she’d busy herself with assistant duties until Ruth forgot the whole thing. Perhaps their paths wouldn’t cross for hours, and Ruth would get distracted.

  Caitlyn walked softly to the desk and set her purse on the floor without a sound. But when she sat, the adjustable chair sank beneath her, and she yelped.

  She got up and used the lever to pump the chair to its usual height, then sat again and faced the desk phone. The orange lights flickered madly, and the digital envelope indicated four new messages already. Sighing, she reached for the receiver.

  “Chloe?”

  Caitlyn jumped and dropped the receiver back in its cradle. “Yes?”

  Ruth poked her head out of her office. “Could you come in here for a moment, please?”

  “Sure.” Caitlyn’s heart thumped as she rose to her feet. Calm down. This could be about anything. Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she entered the office and closed the door behind her.

  Ruth sat at her conference table, wearing a sleek, charcoal blazer despite the warm temperature. “Please close the door and have a seat. I’d like to talk to you.”

  Caitlyn’s palms sweated as she lowered herself into a chair across from Ruth. The closed door only made her more nervous. What was this about?

  Ruth looked her right in the eyes. “I was surprised to see you at the colloquium last evening.”

  Oh God. Caitlyn felt like a student hauled into the president’s office to explain some delinquent behavior. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t supposed to go.”

  “Nonsense,” Ruth snapped. “All staff are encouraged to attend events at the college. You know that.”

  “Oh, okay. Sorry.” Caitlyn squirmed.

  “Stop apologizing. I just wanted to know what inspired you to attend. How did you hear about it?”

  “I saw a flier at Kravings, and I thought the topic sounded interesting.” The defensive edge in her voice surprised her. Then, for reasons beyond her immediate understanding, she opened her mouth again. “Are you implying that I’m not smart enough to go to a social science talk?”

  Ruth’s fair complexion turned red and blotchy. “Of course not. I’m an educator. I don’t even believe in not smart enough. I was merely surprised because you’ve never mentioned an interest in the topic.”

  “Well, you don’t know me very well.” What was she doing? Why did she care what Ruth thought of her—or, rather, of Chloe?

  “I suppose you’re right.” Ruth’s cheeks cooled to a rosy pink. “That’s my fault. In fact, I’ve been meaning to check in with you.”

  “Oh.” That sounded ominous. “Um, about what?”

  Ruth shifted in her chair. “I wondered how you’ve been finding the job.”

  “It’s fine.” Where was this going?

  “You and I haven’t had a chance to talk since you started—what was it, two months ago?”

  “That’s about right.” Caitlyn didn’t actually know Chloe’s start date, but she figured the real Chloe could have easily forgotten.

  “I should have asked earlier, but is there anything I should know as your supervisor?”

  “L–like what?”

  “Do you have any questions or concerns?”

  “Uh, let me think for a second.” What would Chloe say? Caitlyn thought back to how Chloe had described the job—and Ruth. Bitchy. Kind of awful. She certainly wouldn’t relay that feedback to Ruth. Besides, it wasn’t accurate. While her first impression of Ruth had been terrible, Caitlyn had realized it was wrong. She would never agree with everything Ruth did as president, but she no longer saw her as a hack on a power trip. Ruth genuinely wanted to help her students.

  As a supervisor, Ruth was distant and hands-off. She didn’t give much feedback, perhaps because she was always rushing to the next meeting. But her treatment of Caitlyn had been professional, not patronizing as Chloe had described it.

  “I’m doing well,” Caitlyn said. “Answering the phone can get tedious, but that’s the job. I appreciate that you invite me to take notes in meetings sometimes because it gives me a chance to learn more about the college.”

  “Good.” Ruth paused. “To be honest, you haven’t seemed interested in the college—well, until the past few days.”

  Right. Chloe probably spent those same meetings scrolling through Instagram, pausing to type an occasional half-formed note. “I’m sorry if it seems that way. I guess I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

  “Yes, I noticed that you’ve been jumpy lately.” Ruth furrowed her brow. “Ever since Monday, actually. I hope everything is okay.”

  Oops. Caitlyn hadn’t been as inconspicuous as she’d hoped.

  “I want you to know that if you need accommodations, you can talk to me—if you like.”

  Accommodations? Was Ruth making a subtle reference to the medication Caitlyn had dropped at her feet? Caitlyn was afraid to ask, but she was touched that Ruth had framed the issue as one of accommodation, rather than treating Caitlyn’s anxiety as a problem.

  “Of course, you’re under no obligation to share anything personal with me,” Ruth added quickly. “I just want you to know that, well, I’m here.”

  The depths of the concern in Ruth’s eyes startled Caitlyn. “I appreciate that. Truly. I don’t need anything right now, but it’s good to know that I can come to you if that changes.”

  “Well. Good.” Ruth clapped her hands. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll let you get back to your desk.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Caitlyn started toward the door, the tension draining from her limbs.

  “Chloe?” Ruth called after her, an odd note in her voice.

  Caitlyn stiffened and held her breath as she turned around. “Yes?”

  “I’m worried I gave you the impression that I disapproved of you attending the colloquium. That’s not the case at all. The faculty were delighted to have you, and they were impressed with your contribution to the discussion—as was I. You are welcome at any event on this campus. I want to make that absolutely clear.”

  “Thank you. That’s good to know.”

  Interesting. Chloe was right, in a sense, that Ruth didn’t know her well. But she was wrong that it was because Ruth didn’t care.

  Caitlyn returned to her desk and found a new email notification on her phone. She tapped the icon. A response to her post on the Harvard alumni board! Someone named Jonathan Tharp had sent her a private message:

  Hi, Caitlyn, I work for the deputy COO in the office of Federal Student Aid. Your sister can reach me at…