She straightened up and started checking the coat rack, lifting sleeves and tapping the pockets of the jackets hanging there. I moved toward the bedroom doorway and looked around the dresser and the small table beside the bed, then crouched to glance under the bed frame.

Nothing.

"All of this for one earring," I muttered.

"It was a nice earring," Eleanor replied from the other side of the room. "I liked it."

"Fair enough. Was it the blue one?"

"Of course. Blue is my favorite color."

We kept searching for a few more minutes, moving from room to room, opening drawers, checking the bathroom counter, looking under the sink, and going back over the same spots in case either of us had missed it the first time. Eleanor kept muttering to herself while I looked through the obvious places. Every now and then, she would pause and ask if I had seen a small silver piece, and every time I had to tell her no.

The whole thing had that strange, quiet energy of two people trying to solve a tiny problem that had somehow become way more annoying than it should have been.

"You would think something that small would be easier to find," she grumbled.

"Usually things disappear faster when they are annoying," I replied.

She let out a tired laugh. "That is the most accurate thing you have ever said."

I checked the living room again, then leaned over the back of the couch and looked between the cushions once more. Eleanor was at the dining table now, turning over a napkin holder and checking underneath it.

After another minute, she suddenly stopped.

She put both hands on her hips and let out a long breath, then walked over to the couch and dropped down onto it with a soft groan. She rested one elbow on her thigh and leaned her forehead into her open palm, looking exhausted all of a sudden.

I frowned and turned toward her. "You okay?"

She stayed still for a second before answering. "I sold them."

"Sold what?"

"My earrings." She gave a tiny, breathy laugh. "For debt. I sold them. I just remembered."

"Oh."

For a second, I just stood there, then I let out a short laugh of my own because the whole thing was so absurdly on-brand for her situation that I did not know what else to do. I walked over and sat beside her on the couch, shaking my head.

"I’m stupid," she muttered.

"You’re tired," I corrected her. "That is different."

She leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, still smiling a little despite herself. "I really did search everywhere for something I already got rid of."

"That sounds rough."

"It is," she replied with a weak chuckle.

I glanced over at her, then shook my head. "You should take the day off. I could talk to Charlotte if you want."

"No, no." She waved that off immediately, though she still looked tired. "I need distractions. Staying busy helps."

I studied her face for a second. She did not look like she was in any shape to be standing behind a bar all day, but I also knew enough by now to understand that Eleanor was the kind of person who kept moving even when she should have stopped.

"Alright," I said at last. "Then let’s go. We would not want to make you late."

She gave me a small smile and pushed herself upright again. "Yeah. Come on."

⟁ ⟁ ⟁

I parked the car just outside Stingy Ladies and got out. Eleanor and I zipped up our coats and walked toward the entrance together. Near the door, smoking while looking at her phone, was Sophia. She was wearing a simple tight T-shirt that showed how fit she was, and her buzzcut was a little damp from the rain. She also had a gun tucked into a sheath on her belt, which surprised me a little. I had never seen her carry one before.

"Morning," Eleanor greeted her.

Sophia looked up from her phone. "Morning, Eleanor."

"You go ahead," I told Eleanor with a smile. "I’ll be in there in a bit."

"Sure."

Eleanor went inside, and I stayed outside with Sophia. I pulled out my own pack of cigarettes, lit one, and took a drag. Sophia gave me a quick look, then went back to scrolling on her phone like she had already lost interest in the conversation.

"Hey," I began after a second.

"Mm." She grunted without lifting her eyes.

I exhaled the smoke and glanced at her gun before taking another drag. "You seen any of Brok’s men lately?"

She shook her head. "No. I intend to keep it that way."

I looked back at the street while chewing on that answer. This Brok mess had gone on long enough. I needed to end it soon, and the only real chance I had was waiting until the pawnshop opened again, which would be in about half an hour. Until then, all I could do was keep moving and keep my head clear.

The rain had eased up while we were driving over, turning into a light drizzle that left the streets covered in shallow puddles. A few people were still out walking with umbrellas, and the whole neighborhood had that gray, sleepy look it got when the weather could not decide whether it wanted to rain harder or give up entirely. The sky stayed dark, like the sun had already given up for the day.

"Why are you here?" Sophia asked.

"Checking on Eleanor," I replied. "She’s a friend."

"Mm."

"Is Charlotte here?"

"Emilia today," she answered. "She’s behind the bar."

"Got it." I took one last drag, then tossed the cigarette aside and crushed it under my heel. "Thanks for the talk."

"I wouldn’t really call that a talk, but sure," she replied, shrugging slightly. "Take care, Evan."

"You too."

Take care. That was new.

Maybe Sophia was warming up to me a little. I never would have expected us to end up on that kind of footing after I had punched her in the mall out of pure rage. But honestly, I had been furious at Tom and not thinking straight. The guy had pushed me too far, and I had reacted before my brain could catch up.

I opened the door and stepped inside.