“The beacon.” Cordelia smiles, but it teeters in and out like she’s overwhelmed. “Will you take a seat?” She motions to the chairs blocking the TV. Where everyone can stare. “Uh…” Will she predict my future like Oscar and Jack’s? “I…” “Take your time. I’ll return,” Cordelia says kindly, then holds out a hand to Eliot. “You’d like to go in her place.” It’s not a question. “She knows me so well,” Eliot teases with an alluring smile. “To the stage?” “If you wouldn’t mind.” “I’d love nothing more.” Eliot walks backwards to give me two thumbs up like it’s easy peasy. Not so hard.
