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“I’ll see.”

Marianne was already checking weather on the Internet. “Rain, high winds—damn, nobody’s going to come to the lecture.”

“Some people will come,” Sissy said, with more confidence than she felt. “Does Albuquerque get superstorms?”

“I’ll check.”

Tim, dressed, emerged from the bedroom. Room service brought dinner, which smelled wonderful. The wind howled louder, or at least it seemed louder to Sissy. She said to the waiter, “Have you lived here long?”

“All my life, ma’am.”

Sissy dropped her voice. “Does Albuquerque get superstorms? Or tornadoes?”

“No, ma’am. I ain’t never seen neither one.”

“Thank you.”

After he left, Marianne looked up from her tablet and said, “Monsoon season doesn’t usually start in Albuquerque until August—well, this is late July. There can be heavy winter storms and severe lightning storms, but the last tornado of any impact was 1974. And it was only an F2. New Mexico lies outside of Tornado Alley. And the city hasn’t ever had a superstorm.”

“First time for everything,” Sissy muttered.

They ate in silence except for the wind. Marianne scarcely looked up from her notes. Not that she wasn’t always this focused before a speech, but at least she was eating. Her speech outfit, dress pants, and a pretty burgundy blazer that Sissy insisted she buy, hung loosely on her thinner body, but she’d refused to go shopping for something that actually fit. Tim, who always gulped his food, left to meet with hotel security and do his final check of the ballroom. He said to Marianne, “You stay here until I come for you.”

She said, “Tim, it’s been over a year since anybody has considered me worth attacking with so much as a banana. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“Better safe than sorry,” Tim said, winked at Sissy, and left. Instead of being reassured by the slight bulge of his shoulder holster under his jacket, Sissy felt oddly disturbed.

Snap out of it, Sissy. Mama’s voice, strong in her head. And good advice. It was just the wind making her so jumpy. Sissy knew the cure for that—good common-sense facts. She left the table, turned on the wall screen, and found the local news.

“… unusually high winds… moderate rains… travel advisory in effect…”

Marianne looked up sharply. “How high did they say the winds are?”

Sissy said, “Gusts up to fifty miles per hour.”

Marianne frowned. Sissy said, “You have somebody you can call?” Marianne knew a lot of scientists, all kind of scientists.

“Yes, but I’m not going to call him. Not enough probability. You just leave your tablet on during the speech, Sissy, and keep an eye on the weather.”

Sissy nodded, but she wasn’t happy. She didn’t even want to eat her crème brûlée.

She was even less happy after Tim escorted Marianne to the green room behind the ballroom and Sissy took her seat in a middle row of chairs. Most of the chairs were empty; Marianne had been right about people staying home. A raised stage had been set up at one end, with a lectern and two more empty chairs. The wall behind the stage had a little door. The ballroom had no windows and it must have rooms all around it, because all of a sudden Sissy couldn’t hear the wind. An elderly couple sat next to her. They looked nice, so she leaned over and said, “Excuse me?”

“Yes?” the lady said.

“I’m not from around here and I’m just wondering—does Albuquerque get tornadoes or superstorms? There’s so much wind out there!”

They both smiled. The man said, “No, miss. Oh, small ones sometimes, but it’s not a big problem here.” It was what Marianne had already told her, and Sissy felt better. She should have eaten the crème brûlée. Maybe it would still be on the hallway cart after the speech. Almost 7:30—she settled herself more firmly on her chair.

Then they came in.

A whole group of young men—fifteen, sixteen, seventeen—which in itself was trouble because they were too old for a class trip and anyway there was no teacher or professor with them. They all wore long dark raincoats with hoods, which didn’t look like gang gear but didn’t look good, either. No girls with them, and the raincoats were loose enough to hide anything. Where was Tim? Had security let these guys through?

Sissy walked back to the ballroom entrance and asked the guard there, “Where is the ladies’ room?” He told her, but there was something about the way he held his face and body, something she couldn’t name but felt as strong as the chill from a freezer door. She smiled and walked toward the ladies’ room, and when she turned to open the door, he was watching her hard.

In the bathroom stall, she heard the wind howling. She called Tim on her cell. The call didn’t go through. Sissy checked her tablet; the Wi-Fi had disappeared.

Sissy left the bathroom and turned the opposite direction from the ballroom. The security guard had been watching for her. He called down the corridor, “Miss! You can’t go that way!” He started toward her.

Sissy ran. No place else, no hotel or college campus or community hall or anywhere else Marianne gave speeches, had ever tried to stop Sissy from going backstage. She darted into a staircase, ran up one floor instead of down, and raced toward a different stairwell. Her sense of direction had always been good. She found the corridors that brought her behind the ballroom. Another Security guard stood outside the green room. He eyed her the same way the other one had.

“You can’t go in there, Miss Tate.”

He knew her name. She hadn’t met with these people—had Tim for some reason shown them her picture? Why would he do that? Sissy made herself smile appealingly and held out her tablet. “I have to go in, I’m afraid. Dr. Jenner forgot her notes! She’s always so forgetful!” She shook her curls at the man.

“You can’t go in there.”

“Well, she can’t go on stage without her notes! There’s a lot of numbers for her speech that she hasn’t memorized. Important numbers.”

He hesitated. Clearly he wanted Marianne on stage. Finally he said, “You go back to your seat. I’ll give her the tablet.”

“Okay.”

She handed it to him and turned to go. When he opened the door, she darted through ahead of him.

“Hey!” He was outraged but she saw he was also hesitant; whatever was supposed to happen on stage, he didn’t want Tim alerted to it. Sissy watched him pull himself together. “We got rules, but since you’re already in….” She had never seen anything as fake or horrible as his smile.

“Thank you,” Sissy said sweetly. She closed the door behind her. Marianne and Tim stared at her. “Listen, Tim, there are some men in the ballroom, and I think that security is part of it and—”

“Tell me in order,” Tim said, just as Marianne’s cell, held halfway to her mouth, said in the slight vibrato of a speakerphone, “Marianne? I can’t talk to you now. Sorry. Bye.”

“Scott! Wait!” Marianne said. “I’m in New Mexico and I need to know if a—”

“New Mexico?” the vibrato said. “Where in New Mexico?”

“Downtown Albuquerque. Is there a storm coming? A big one?”

“How do you know that? We don’t even know that for sure. GOES East is offline again, fucking ancient equipment, but everything else up near you says the situation is deteriorating. It could all go away or it could be something big gathering. I—”

“How big?”

“Don’t know yet. But stay alert, okay? Is there a safe shelter where you are?”

“I—”

“Something that can withstand a major tornado?”

“Major? New Mexico doesn’t—”