Free Queens of All the Earth by Hannah Sternberg

again.”
    “Where’s his mom?” Olivia asked softly.
    “I think she’s dead,” Marc said.
    Olivia’s breath caught. Why did she suddenly feel guilty?
    Everyone else at the table indulged the simultaneous urge to stufftheir faces. But before Lenny could interpret this as encouragement to continue, Marc swallowed hard and leaned toward Miranda.
    “So, what are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked a little too brightly.
    “We could do Gaudí tomorrow,” Miranda said.
    “Okay,” said Olivia, ready to agree with anything that would set her feet moving, as if that could stop her mind from spinning.
    “A full day would give you more time to stay and look at the things you like,” Marc said.
    “I guess you could always add a few more sights to fill it out, unless you really want to use up a whole day on it,” Lenny said with a sigh.
    Olivia suddenly looked up to Marc and said, “Come with us.”
    “Well, I was only going to wander tomorrow anyway, so I guess I can wander with you, if you’ll take me,” he said, with some hesitation.
    “I guess I can come along too,” Lenny said without invitation.
    Before Lenny could propose leading the group, Miranda spoke of the works she wanted to see—the Casa Milá, the Sagrada Familia, and the Casa Batlló. “That should be enough for a whole day,” she said.
    “Or more,” Marc said. He beamed charmingly at Miranda. “You’d better gather your strength.”
    That evening, Olivia raided the stock of guidebooks she shared with Miranda to read up on Antoni Gaudí. She wanted to be an expert by tomorrow. She wanted to do tomorrow so much better than she had done today.
    Lenny sought the companionship of a few Scottish football fans—two or three, if she was lucky—who were probably the coolest tourists around, way more laid-back than the English, and definitely with sexier accents.
    Marc took a stroll down La Rambla for some fresh(er) air and returned to write in his journal.
    Miranda, with her usual efficiency, managed to wear herself out between washing up and corresponding with friends at home, but waitedto go to bed until ten o’clock. Following her own jet-lag rule, she sat stubbornly upright in a computer chair in front of her e-mail, nodding off every five minutes.
    Olivia read, lying on her bed, until Miranda came in to sleep and turned out the light. Olivia lay awake until all was silent. Worn out on Gaudí before she had even seen his buildings in real life, she slipped into the common room to lose herself in A Wrinkle in Time .
    But the room wasn’t deserted yet. When she rounded the corner, she saw Hugo and Sophie close together on one of the couches. Hugo slouched back, and Sophie leaned into him, one hand lazily weaving through his hair, the other settled in the crook of his elbow, her thumb stroking his arm. Hugo held her loosely around her waist, with a lazy grin subtly different from the one he showed all the guests.
    Sophie saw her staring and Olivia’s heart caught in her throat, but before she could retreat, Sophie rose stiffly, and Hugo alone remained slouched on the couch, relaxed and unembarrassed. When Sophie moved for the door, Hugo stirred fluidly from the couch and followed her. While they said goodbye in the dim foyer, Olivia climbed into the deep chair in the back corner to pretend as visibly as possible that she was invisible.
    After Sophie left (a few words, a brief silence, the click of the latch), Hugo returned to Olivia, his old smirk still hanging off the corners of his lips.
    “Need anything?” he asked good-naturedly.
    “No, I’m fine, thanks, I just came to read my book.” Olivia’s explanation tumbled over itself. When Hugo remained in place, she added, “I’m sorry I interrupted you.”
    “It’s okay. She’s not upset. Just shy.” He smiled. For the first time, Olivia saw Sophie as Mr. Brown must have seen her right away—as Hugo knew her to be all along. And now the flowers made perfect sense.
    “I hope you have