“Near the arbor. Come quickly.” Erica’s eyes shone with insistence. “No one can lift her.”
“I didn’t see her go out.”
“She didn’t want to make a scene. Please, she’s asking for you.”
It sounded exactly like her aunt.Avoid disruption. Avoid attention.The words struck a note of truth.
Leticia turned, expecting to find Gabriel beside her. He was gone. She looked again, searching the crowd, her pulse rising. The crowd closed in. Her view was gone. She could see no broad shoulders, no dark hair.
Her heart lodged in her throat.
Erica’s grip found her hand. “Hurry.”
Leticia hesitated before she stepped onto the terrace.
*
Night air struckher cheeks, cool and damp, heavy with the scent of trampled grass and woodsmoke. Somewhere closer, a sharp note of something sweeter, roses, bruised and fading, twined through the breeze. The terrace stones gave way to the path, where gravel crunched beneath each step, loud in the hush.
Behind them, the faint strains of music still drifted from the ballroom. It sounded warped now. Slower. Disconnected. Like a melody out of time.
Ahead, the gardens opened into soft pools of lamplight and long swathes of shadow. A couple strolled past in awkward silence, arms linked, eyes darting. Lanterns bobbed above their heads. Their nervous laughter faded as quickly as it had sparked.
Leticia followed Erica, drawn past the edge of the terrace into darker paths. Her slipper slid slightly on loose stone, and her balance wavered again. She lifted her skirts just enough to walk faster.
Here, there was no cluster of guests. No flash of lilac silk. No cry for assistance. And no sign of Gabriel.
Her heart slowed, not with calm, but with stillness. Dangerousstillness settled. The kind that warned of something lying in wait.
She stopped walking.
Her foot ground deliberately against the gravel, once again, dragging a rough sound from the stones. A warning. A marker.
She didn’t know if anyone would hear. She didn’t know if it mattered.
The brooch at her throat was like a stone fresh from the hearth, too hot, too solid. Her chest ached beneath it.
Gabriel had asked, but she had said yes. Even now, even with Erica’s fingers tightening just slightly around her wrist, she didn’t regret it.
But her fear had shape now. Weight. Teeth.
Would her mother have called her brave? Or foolhardy?
She could almost hear the voice, dry and fond.My brave, darling, choosing not to let fear drive your decisions.
The breeze stirred her hem and carried the imagined voice away.
Leticia turned slightly, meaning to look back toward the ballroom, toward Gabriel. No familiar figure met her gaze.
Behind her, Erica’s voice changed. “Come. She’s behind the arbor.” Not pleading. Not rushed. Flat.
Leticia’s spine stiffened. “I should get Gabriel.”
Erica’s grip clamped down. “No time.”
The shift was subtle, but she felt it. Too late. Not a mistake. Not an accident. She had stepped into it.
The words struck clean. The shadows near the hedges stirred. Two men stepped forward. They didn’t wear evening coats. One wore boots crusted with road-dust. The other had a scar running from his temple into the collar of his shirt. Neither looked like they had been invited.
