“Why are you here, Avery?”
Ramble pulled their head from the crook of Mac’s neck, watching the pair from across the table with wide, liquid eyes.
“I want to be better than him,” Avery said, her voice flat and hollow. “It never felt right how my dad talks about inhumans and how our church treats you.” She blinked, and a tear squeezed free, curving over the apple of her cheek. “They’re so angry all the time, and when I started to realize that I—” She pressed her lips together, nostrils flaring. “I want to be better than that. Than him.”
“You are.”
“Am I?” She turned her head, reddened eyes boring into Cricket’s. “You saw me in that class, I could barely treat the students equally.”
“Because they aren’t equal,” Cricket stated. “That Spearfinger is always going to have better fingering on a guitar. It’s how she was born, and she’s always going to have that advantage. Those advantages are always going to exist, whether it’s cross-species or within your own. And yeah, you got frustrated, but they were all talking over you and complaining. Anyone would get frustrated. You did the best you could, you apologized, and you learned. You gave your time and patience as best you were able, and you tried again. Just like you did with me.”
Avery sent her a watery smile and, miracle of miracles, squeezed Cricket’s hand.
“I still don’t trust it,” said Ramble. “She—”
“Ramble, come on.” Mac straightened and grabbed her wife’s arm.
“Think about it, though. If her dad hates inhumans so much, which he does, and I have the newspaper clippings to prove it, why would he ask your father for that favor? Why would he want her here?”
Mac pressed her lips together and shook her head, eyes drifting to Avery.
“He doesn’t,” she answered. “I fought with him for weeks to even apply. I had to build a business case for why working at Elkwater would be the best step for my career.”
“And then he just changes his mind one day?” Ramble countered. “Calls in a favor from a prominent congressman to get his daughter a job at a summer camp?” They frowned at Mac. “I love it here as much as you do, but we both know this place isn’t worth a congressional favor.”
“It could be,” Mac whispered.
“I know.” Ramble softened and cupped their wife’s cheek. “But still, I do not believe it.”
“You’re not being fair.”
“I am being more than fair, considering her family”—they nodded at Avery—“is buying up every piece of property in Green Bank that they can.”
“What?” Avery and Cricket shouted as one.
“They’re forcing my family out of their home, and then suddenly her dad pulls a favor to get his daughter a job at an integrated camp? Come on, Mac, you are smarter than this.”
“What do you mean we’re buying up property?” Avery cut in, glaring at Cricket. “I thought you said it was a Georgia company.”
“It is,” she said.
Ramble scoffed. “Oh, sure. Your daddy pulls a favor, and now you want us to believe you did not know?”
“I didn’t!” Avery argued. The red was back in her cheeks, the fire blazing in her eyes. Cricket took it in, marveling at the fact she recognized that reaction as Avery telling the truth. Not a hint of deception masked those lovely features, and she was struck anew by the human.
“How do you?” she asked her cousin.
“I was stuck in Elkins until the road cleared,” Ramble explained. They nodded at Cricket. “A few of the family were there. They mentioned Nathan Payne had been in town, and another suggested he was looking at more property.” They shrugged and, at Mac’s hand falling to their forearm, continued. “I was curious, so I went to the assessor’s office yesterday before seeing the family.”
Mac groaned and palmed her face. “You have got to stop watching so many police procedurals.”
“What? Jerry Orbach is a compelling actor.” They shrugged and shook their head as if this were an old argument that would never be resolved. “Anyway, I was curious. It is not a character fault.” Ramble pursed their lips and leaned conspiratorially across the table. “Spoken like somebody who’s never owned a Jag.” At the blank stare Cricket sent them, Ramble frowned and straightened, glancing around the table. “Seriously, does no one watch Law and Order?”
“No,” Avery whispered.
“You watch the reruns at dawn,” Mac muttered.
“Bad reception in Green Bank,” Cricket supplied.