“To keep your mind active,” he’d said.
Henri.
Asshole.
What made it worse was that he was probably my dad, and he didn’t have the balls to get me out of this haunted mansion, with characters who were worse than violent ghosts. They were monsters, and he was probably one of them, before Régine had killed him.
And if he was a monster, and Régine had taken care of him, what did that make her?
Shuddering, I set down a tube of concealer to fix my face. I stared into my eyes for a second, the true gray of them, such a pretty thing Henri had given to me, and then hid them behind true silver contacts.
What had Matteo thought of me on that stage, shimmering like a star in the darkened sky? Did he notice my silver eyes? The darkness of my hair? What looked like a diamond encrusted costume on my body, but what was supposed to be, collectively, a star—did he notice that too?
The reflection in the mirror stopped me cold for a second. A grin was on my face, something I hadn’t done in what felt like forever. All because I kept thinking about him and fantasizing that he was some kind of knight in shining armor, the kind my mom told me stories of for fun.
It was okay to keep that, right? A good dream for the desperate times. The times I prayed not to wake up. The times I pressed the button on the watch like it might save my life—if only my mom could feel it and come back for me. When she’d left me, she’d left with no promises, but said she’d burn the world down to come back for me when the time was right. Even though Henri was a coward, at least he gave me things to hide. Things to keep my mind busy. Like a fat dictionary with a thesaurus—he must have gotten a two for one deal. He also was nice to me when we were alone. In front of everyone else, he was indifferent to me. Cold.
That was the name of the song playing on the record player. The song I’d be dancing to later. “Cold.”
Régine thought playing the music of the night before my dances would get me in the “right state of mind.” She wanted the music to consume me, so that the girl on that stage would become a moving lyric. That part was always easy for me—losing myself to something that felt bigger than me. For a short time, it brought me peace, because Iwassomething else entirely, andthatgirl and I shared this prison. If Étoile had been trapped in a bottle by the Nemours, so had I, and as weird as it sounded, we were locked up together. It was bittersweet, because when themusic stopped playing, Étoile stopped moving, and again, it was just Stella against the world.
Closing my eyes to my reflection for a second, I toyed with the idea of opening the vanity and running my hands over my things, but something stopped me. Probably my awareness of the time, and that one of Régine’s henchmen would be coming to collect me shortly to escort me to the underground club.
My body started to sway with sleep. I always slept better sitting up. Anywhere but that bed. But even sitting up, it was nevergoodsleep. I hadn’t had good sleep since my mom dropped me off. Like my mom, I had insomnia, which was why I knew what it was. She’d once told me hers had been brought on by fear, but she never told me why she was scared.
I knew why I was scared. Because I’d been living in a nightmare since the day I arrived here. At first, after my mom left, I think I was in shock. Especially after Régine took me by the arm and hauled me down the steps, locking me in. The dungeon had been dusty back then, and I was terrified a spider would come and get me. The fireplace too. It was in the shape of a bronzed frozen scream full of fire. And the dungeon never was comfortable. Too close to the fire and it would be too hot; too far from it, I would freeze.
After time, though, I was made to clean, before Régine found out I could dance, and that became my routine. My place in the house. Be seen and not heard while I scrubbed their toilets, mopped their floors, and dusted every inch until I couldn’t get the smell of cleaner off my hands.
After that time, and they found out I could move like the women who worked with my mom, but even better, Régine stuck me in the underground club to see how well I could do. I became Étoile, with a sad story to go with the falling star from the sky. I was parentless, without any family, and poor in spirit and inthings worth money. The only thing I had going for me was my ability to shine,dazzle, while I moved.
Out of character? Yeah.No.Régine knew exactly who I was the moment she looked at me. Étoile wasn’t a product of her imagination. Étoile was me with a different look.
Spiders became the least of my worries. And at one time, I remembered mom readingCharlotte’s Webto me and I hoped for a spider friend. The dungeon was the loneliest place when I was down here all alone. Other times, when I wanted to think of my mom and touch my things, it was a hiding place, even though I was always vulnerable.
But sleeping? Sleeping, even when my body ached from cleaning during the day and dancing four shows a night, never came. Except for those times when my mind and body couldn’t deal with the exhaustion. At some point, instinct took over and I’d just pass out. A few times, it was like my mind turned on, but my body wouldn’t move. I was aware of what was going on around me, but I was almost paralyzed. It scared me so much, all I could think about was it happening again, and it only made it harder to sleep.
My mom never came to me in dreams. I was thankful of that. I’d always assumed it was dead people who came in dreams. Traveled those celestial skies to find the ones they love from someplace far removed from here. It made me believe that she was coming back. Still.
God, how awful I’d been to my mom when she told me she was leaving me with Henri. She said he could take care of me for a while. It would be like a vacation in Paris while we got to know each other. She hadn’t mentioned the word “father,” and I still wondered why. Maybe she thought he was going to pass me off as a long-lost niece or something? I had no clue then. I still had no clue. But I put up a fight. A fight like I’d never had reason to before.
Up until that point, my life was amazing. I had a mom who loved me, I could feel it, and she was like the sunshine in my days. We didn’t have a lot of money, but I barely noticed. The women at my mom’s work were so nice. And it was like we had a big family. We’d barbecue, and sometimes when one of them would need a place to stay, we’d have sleepovers and bake brownies from a box and stay up all night eating them while watching movies. My childhood was shaping up to be so good, then something happened and the next thing I knew I was on a plane to Paris. Mom told me we were going to spend a week together and then she had to go.
At that age, I hadn’t even noticed that she said that. She had to go. Notus.She.I was just so excited to be out of Louisiana and doing something my mom’s friends would think was so cool. A few of them had told me that before we left.
“Stella! I always wanted to leave Louisiana, but the furthest I’ve ever gotten was New Orleans. But I guess it’s something. You need a passport to visit!”That was Pearl. Who had hair the same color as one, and shimmering skin when the lights would hit her on the stage.
It hit me after mom left me that she’d said that to me. Thatshewould be going and notus. I’d gone over our last conversation with a fine-tooth comb so many times, I questioned whether what I remembered happening really happened. Except for that part. It stuck in my heart like a thorn.
Why had my mom loved me so hard all those years just to leave me?
Why hadn’t she come back for me?
I was still swaying, and what snapped me out of the nap was the distressed noise from my mouth. I felt groggy and weak, like all the blood was draining from my body. Maybe because of that thorn that was still stuck in my heart.
My eyes slowly opened, and it was darker in the dungeon.Régine stood behind me, blocking any light from the fireplace. She’d been watching me sleep.
Creeper.
