Page 103 of Julian

It did that for me, and now it’s doing it for him.

“Okay,” Dylan says as we climb the steps of the Met. He shoves his gloved hands deeper into his coat pockets. “I just want the record to show I’m only here because you bribed me with dumplings afterward.”

I laugh. “You liked the exhibit I showed you last night on the computer.”

“It had medieval armor.”

“And this has Monet.”

“Which is significantly less funny.”

I bump my shoulder lightly against his as we pass through the massive entrance doors. “Expand your horizons.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “But if I leave this place deeply passionate about water lilies, I’m blaming you.”

The museum is quieter than usual, and the new Monet exhibit occupies several gently lit galleries tucked toward the European wing. The second we step inside the first room, even Dylan goes quiet.

It’s breathtaking. Entire walls filled with gardens and water and sky, the brushstrokes dreamlike up close.

“Okay,” Dylan murmurs after a minute. “I get it now.”

I smile to myself as we move slowly through the gallery.

At one point I stop in front of a massive Water Lilies panel and stare at it, completely pulled in by the soft blur of color and light.

“It looks like a memory,” I whisper without realizing I’ve said it out loud.

Beside me, Dylan glances over. “That’s a really good description. This is pretty wild. It’s like this guy can paint what’s in someone’s imagination.”

As I stand there wondering if my little brother might be evolving, my phone vibrates in my coat pocket. At first I ignore it, assuming it’s Abby sending me another ridiculous TikTok trend, but it keeps vibrating insistently enough that I finally pull it out.

Unknown number.

Dylan notices my face as it turns confused. “What?”

“I don’t know,” I murmur. “Should I answer it?”

“Yes, it could be Mom.”

My pulse hammers as I answer the call and step slightly away from the center of the gallery.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Hawthorne?”

The voice is professional and suddenly my entire body goes still.

“Yes, speaking.”

“This is Stephanie Greene from Penny Aura. We wanted to reach out regarding your interview process.”

Dylan watches me from several feet away now, his expression alert and expectant.

“Yes,” I manage.

Stephanie continues, “First, I want to thank you again for taking the time to meet with the executive team. We interviewed over twenty-five candidates for this role.”

The number alone nearly makes me dizzy. I do the odds in my head: four percent chance for each person.