Taylor kicks at Michael with her free foot, and he loosens his grip. She flees the room, flinging the door shut behind her.
Taylor
In the basement hall area, the air is less hazy, but Rose is bent over, still coughing. Taylor gasps, trying to catch her own breath. She eyes the stairwell, leading up to the Knox’s first floor. Is that the best way out, to reach Vivian? The only way? She’s feeling a little fuzzy.
A sudden movement near the still-open scroll startles her: Protective glass walls rise from beneath the ground to form a seal around the table. Taylor stares, momentarily entranced as the table itself then caves inward, in a V-shaped formation, causing the scroll to roll itself together. The bottom of the table splits open, revealing a gap, and in it drops the scroll. The table flattens back out, and continues to transform, growing smaller and more compact beneath the glass.
Whoa.
“We should go,” Taylor says, snapping to. “C’mon, Rose, we need to get out of here.”
But Rose remains huddled over, as if she’s trying to crawl into herself.
“Rose?” Taylor taps her urgently on the shoulder. “Rose?”
She looks up at Taylor, her face like a wilted flower. “Oh, Tara, what have I done?”
“Rose, weneedto go.” Taylor glances nervously at the room with Michael. She feels his hand grasped around her ankle, as if he were still holding it.
“I…I shot my own son.”
The gun, Taylor suddenly realizes, is still in the room with Michael.Shit. What if he musters the strength to come after them?
Another sudden movement around the scroll startles her: an extremely thick metal wall now emerges from the ground to form a second protective enclosure. She’s never seen metal casing on any of the other scrolls before. Is initiation over?
Is Taylor too late?
She crouches down in front of Rose and takes her hands, which are like slivers of ice. Rose is unfocused, her eyes glazed over. “Rose,” Taylor says, shaking her to no avail. “Rose, look at me,” she pleads. “I’m Taylor—not Tara. I need your help.” She hastily pulls off her wig and both masks. “See?”
“Taylor,” Rose says, comprehension flooding her face. “Where’s Tara? Where did Tara go?” She starts hacking again.
“Here,” Taylor says, offering her the KN95 mask. “You should take this. I’ll…I’ll use the phoenix mask.” But the acidic air is already hitting her hard; she stifles a cough. Throwing a quick glance at the room with Michael, she’s relieved to see the door remains closed—for now.
Rose fumbles as she tries to slip on the mask, and when Taylor goes to help, Rose suddenly clasps Taylor’s hand. “You’re a good girl, Taylor. I knew it the minute you asked to take off your shoes. I knew you didn’t know anything about Vivian. I knew she didn’t say anything to you in the hospital. I told Oliver, too. I said, you let that girl be.”
Taylor sharply inhales, and with it comes another gust of thatacidic smoke smell. She wrangles her hand away from Rose’s to cover her cough. “What?” she manages, once the cough passes. But Rose has folded back into herself, her gaze distant.
Taylor should have known; of course shady Oliver would be behind whatever’s happened to Vivian. She shakes Rose’s arm. “Rose, do you know where Vivian is? Rose? Rose?”
“The quarters,” she mumbles.
“Whose quarters? Can you take me there?”
“Quarters and nickels. Or is it nickels and dimes? Things sure change on a dime.” Rose suddenly starts laughing.
“C’mon.” Taylor tugs her toward the stairs.
“Where are we going?” Rose asks, between cackles.
“Upstairs, to get Vivian.”
“Vivian’s not with the guests; she’s with the servants for once,” she says, still laughing—but now it’s a bitter kind of laugh.
“The servants? Wait—you mean, she’s in the servants’ quarters?” Of course, Taylor now thinks. Clever of them to hide her there—who would suspect that?
Taylor quickly pivots, now dragging Rose back toward the boiler room.
But Rose’s laughter has dissolved to crying—full, body-racking sobs that make it difficult to pull her along. “What did I do?” she laments. “Oh no, Oliver. Oh no, oh no.”
