Chapter Text
Erika tells Mr. Hennessey that she has no story for him, a decision that costs her five hundred dollars she doesn’t have. Knowing Charlotte as she does now, she could never expose Charlotte’s story to the public for a price. It wouldn’t be fair. But Erika’s reasons are selfish as well. She wants to keep her memories of yesterday, her memories of Charlotte, for herself.
Raven, on the other hand, is free to do what she likes. Erika can no more control what she does with the pictures than she can control the weather. (Though she has tried, once or twice, to no effect.)
Mr. Hennessey, still suspicious that Erika knows more than she’s telling him, assigns her to the rescheduled press conference with the princess anyway. So Erika has one last chance to see Charlotte. She doesn’t know whether this is easier or worse than it would have been otherwise.
She stands in the front row, where Charlotte can see her easily. The princess looks as calm as composed as she ever has looking out from the front page of a newspaper. She must recognize Erika and realize what she’s doing here, but her face shows no sign of betrayal. Then—
Hello.
The voice comes from inside Erika’s head, sounding as if Charlotte is standing right in front of her. But Charlotte isn’t even looking in her direction now.
Hello?
Charlotte’s voice continues, clear and plain as day: I’ve known who you were since yesterday morning. I’m a mutant too, you see. A telepath.
You knew—?
Yes, I knew. You can publish the story, if you like.
I’m not going to publish the story, Erika thinks firmly.
It makes no difference. I leave the city tomorrow, and we’ll never see each other again. A trace of sadness tinges Charlotte’s ‘voice.’ It’s a good story.
Charlotte…I’m sorry.
I know. And I’m sorry we don’t have more time.
Erika feels Charlotte’s mental presence recede, just as one of Charlotte’s aides introduces the press. The whole conversation has taken all of a few seconds.
Erika stands dazed as the press begins asking their questions. Charlotte responds as though nothing out of the ordinary has happened. But then, Erika supposes, she’s had more practice at acting.
“What was your favorite city, out of the tour?” a man behind Erika asks.
“Each city was charming in its own way,” Charlotte begins, then stops. She looks back up at the crowd, a faint smile playing around her lips. “Rome. By all means, Rome.” She glances in the direction of the man who had asked the question, but her gaze lands on Erika.
Erika stands silently through the rest of the question and answer session. She can’t think of a reasonably good question to ask, anyway. All too soon, the conference ends, and she’s missed her chance.
Charlotte stands. “I would now like to meet some of the ladies and gentlemen of the press.” Erika catches the looks of shock on her aides’ faces, but Charlotte is already coming down the stairs towards the crowd.
It takes quite a few minutes between all the introductions and hand-shaking before she reaches Erika.
“Erika Lehnsherr of the American News Service,” Erika says, clearing her throat.
“So happy, Ms. Lehnsherr,” Charlotte says, with the briefest grin. Thank you, my friend. I will never forget you, nor the day we spent together.
Neither will I.
Charlotte smiles and moves to the next reporter, as though Erika were a total stranger. She returns to the dais and gives the crowd a final dazzling smile before retreating back into the palace. As the train of her dress disappears, Erika is struck by the sense that she will never see Charlotte again in person.
Perhaps not, Charlotte agrees silently. My powers don’t extend to predicting the future. But perhaps we will have another holiday, someday.
Someday, Erika thinks back, not even sure whether Charlotte hears.
The crowd disperses quickly, but Erika lingers, waiting for the final sense of Charlotte’s mind to disappear.