A smile graced my cheeks, and I shook my head. “What’s that saying? You can take the girl out of Weeping Hollow, but you can’t take Weeping Hollow out of the girl.” I laughed. “All these years, this town was always where I belonged. I can confidently say I’m home, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Mina smiled, her eyes glistened. “Good, because we wouldn’t let yah go even if yah wanted to.”
On my way out of Town Square, I cast my vote. There were no names as to who carved the pumpkins, but all the pumpkins lined the gazebo with their unique taglines. I’d known right away which one was Kioni’s since I’d helped her. The detail she’d added was impeccable. The pumpkin showed two faces, one half beautiful, the other distorted and ugly. Under it, a sign which read, “The paradox of a man/beast.”
I dropped the house key into the dish by the front door after walking through the entryway, and I stacked a pile of mail beside it when a crisp ivory envelope caught my eye. My fingers slid it out from the stack, and I looked over the front. It had come from the Pruitt’s. The handwriting was delicate and of a different time.
I broke the Sacred Sea seal and retrieved the invitation to the annual Pruitt Ball. The scroll detail around the edges was an oily navy that shimmered a brighter hue in the light. This year, the theme was a masquerade ball, to begin at midnight. Cocktail attire required.
Julian would be there. I had to go.
I dropped the invitation atop the long table against the wall, hung my purse, and walked to the living room where I curled myself into Gramps’ recliner and openedThe Tommy Knockersto read when the comfort took me into a fast sleep.
The house was dark when I awoke. The grandfather clock chimed, and someone was rapping at the door. I pulled Gramps’ blanket around me, rubbing my eyes on my way to the entryway. The haunting song rang in my ears when I opened the door.
“Please tell me you’re going,” Monday rushed out with a gathered breath.
My gaze followed her silhouette. “Hello to you too.”
She ignored me, pushed past, arms lined with bags and curlers in her hair. “I’m freaking out,” she whined. “This is my first time ever going to a Pruitt Ball as a Sacred Sea half-member, and I am not going without you.” She spun, looked me up and down. “Don’t tell me you’re making me do this on my own. Fable is going with her sisters, and I have no one. Oh, my gosh, I’m going to have to talk to Augustine Pruitt. No, Fallon, youhaveto go.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so nervous, but I’ll go with you,” I said, helping her with some of the bags.
I was going to go anyway and partly relieved she was here so I didn’t have to go alone. I was never one to hold a grudge. Monday had been sincere, never expecting for things to go the way they did. The only thing Monday was guilty of was being persistent. I couldn’t blame her for what had happened to Gramps when she wasn’t even there. Since I was staying, maybe it would be good for us to start over and rebuild from the ground up. This time, on honest intentions.
“Come on, we can get ready upstairs in my room. I’ll do your makeup too because that eyeshadow is terrible.”
Monday threw her head back and released a groaning sound mixed with relief. “Thank you,” she added, then followed me up the stairs to my bedroom.
It was an hour before midnight, and I stood in the bathroom, applying makeup while Monday talked to me from my bedroom. The heat from the hair appliances turned the bathroom into a furnace, causing my loosely curled hair to stick to the back of my neck and skin as it hung around my hips. I leaned forward and painted over my lashes before capping the mascara and blotting the black smudge in the corner.
“You still have tags on half your clothes—three hundred dollars!” She exclaimed from my bedroom. “Fallon, why on earth would you buy a sweater for three hundred dollars?!”
“Get out of my closet,” I yelled back because she wouldn’t understand.
For years, I’d thought dressing the part, looking the part would all get me friends. If I didn’t look like a dead body, maybe the people back in Texas wouldn’t see me as the freak. If I’d learned makeup and wore the right things, I could make friends outside the spirits who visited me. It had never worked, and my passion for fashion only grew. Nothing could translate the way it felt when I slipped a sweater around my shoulders and how it made me feel protected when open and vulnerable.
And in Weeping Hollow, I finally had a friend or two.
Monday was still earning my trust back …
“You know, Adora makes all the clothes for the boutique,” Monday continued, “She’s really talented, and could easily make this, or anything you want, really. And for way less—oh, Fallon! Look!”
When I peeked outside the bathroom doorway, Monday was standing in the middle of my bedroom, holding up a dress in front of her. “You should wear this!”
I stood motionless, releasing a breath trapped in my chest.
The dress was beautiful. A mixture of white material. Lace, chiffon, and silk. The neckline was a deep V shape, hitting almost above the belly button.
I gasped. “Is that yours?”
Monday shook her head. “Can you believe I found it all the way in the back of the closet?” She turned the dress to face her, and the back was just as beautiful. “You think it was your mom’s?” And the comment hit me in the chest, knocking the air from my lungs.
My mother’s. And suddenly it burned behind my eyes. I’d been forcing away the idea that my mom could have stayed in this room, slept in that bed. And now she could have worn the dress Monday was holding.
“If you don’t wear it, I will,” Monday went on, filling my silence.
“No,” I stepped forward, gripping the sides, and fanning it out in front of me, “I want to wear it. I just, I don’t know. It’s so beautiful, and I never had anything that belonged to her.”
