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from Austin, an hour into her trip to Louisiana, when she stopped to gas up and grab a bottled water. She’d just buckled her seatbelt and picked up her phone to check the time when she found a text waiting for her.
    It was from Monica, one of the volunteers at the homeless shelter.
    Monica: Ms. Claudette won’t eat dinner. She’s refusing to. Said she can’t eat without you.
    “I’ve created a monster,” Natalya mumbled to herself, though a smile crept onto her face at the thought of Ms. Claudette.
    White-haired, with fine wrinkles that were a testimony to her longevity, Ms. Claudette was one of Natalya’s favorites. No one knew where she’d come from or how she’d ended up homeless. She spoke with a southern accent that made Natalya think of Lézare Arceneaux every time the older woman spoke.
    Hearing Ms. Claudette talk was like a trip down a wonderful memory lane, one that always resulted in a tiny bit of heartbreak for Natalya because she knew there was no way she’d ever have a future with Lézare.
    Natalya glanced at the time on the phone’s screen. She’d miss the cocktail party at Arceneaux Point for certain if she went to the shelter to see Ms. Claudette, but there was no way she’d get by without spending at least an hour or two with her.
    Natalya sighed.
    She didn’t know why she bothered thinking about it. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t going to go see Ms. Claudette.
    Of course she was.
    She’d shoot for the masquerade ball, since she’d never make it to the cocktail party on time.
    She made a U-turn in the parking lot and entered the ramp to Highway 290, going west.

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    N atalya pulled into the parking lot at the homeless shelter. It was after dinnertime already, but if Ms. Claudette hadn’t eaten, Natalya was certain they’d have held a plate for her.
    She locked her car, avoided the loose boards on the front porch, and entered the dilapidated building.
    Monica greeted her with a come-hither wave. “She’s in quite a mood. Said you told her you’d see her soon and you were here every Friday and Saturday night, and she wasn’t having dinner without you. We told her you were going out of town. She wouldn’t have it.”
    “I’ll talk to her.” She would have to explain to Ms. Claudette that she wouldn’t be there tomorrow night. She would absolutely not drive back to eat dinner with her. She wanted to see Lézare again, and only the cover of a masquerade ball would allow her that. She had to go. Had to.
    “She’s in the library. It’s the only place I could arrange for her to have some peace while she ate. But we can’t keep breaking the rules for her.” Rolling her eyes, Monica handed Natalya a plate that was warm to the touch. “Good luck.”
    Natalya didn’t mind that Ms. Claudette was demanding and she had to accommodate her, but she knew it created extra work for the staff. She hadn’t meant to spoil the elderly lady.
    She knocked on the door and pushed it open.
    “It’s about time.” Ms. Claudette, who was sitting in a wing chair, turned her head away from the window.
    “Shame on you,” Natalya chastised. Her tone matched the smile on her lips. “You’ve given the staff a rough time of it.”
    “You’re supposed to be here Friday and Saturday nights. I told them there had to be something wrong if you weren’t here.”
    “Ms. Claudette.” Natalya set the plate down and pulled the table closer to the older woman. “I told you I’d be gone this weekend.”
    “No, you didn’t.”
    “Oh, yes, I did. And don’t go pretending you don’t remember. That act won’t work on me.”
    “I mean, no, you can’t go.” A flash lit up in the depths of Ms. Claudette’s eyes.
    Natalya would have sworn it was a blue flash, but Ms. Claudette’s eyes were brown.
    The flash happened again. Definitely blue.
    Natalya didn’t want to be caught staring, so she looked out the window. “You need to eat, Ms. Claudette.”
    “I know what you are.”
    Natalya froze. It felt