"What? Stealing clothes?"
"I don't think yours will fit me."
"Please."
"I'm taller than you," she says smugly.
Behind the banter lurks the scrabbling and whispers of the darkness waiting just outside this room. It's where the nightmare turned reality lurks.
But I just smile. "You wish."
"I am. And the best thing about it all is that I already wished you were my sister."
"I did, too."
We hold hands, and she rests her head on my shoulder.
It's a sweet moment.
The door bangs open.
And the moment's gone. Two big men, not Paolo or his friend, come in. They see me and grab me.
Lyndall screams, "Wait?—"
They ignore her.
They ignore the pleas and cries and just slam and lock the door after they march me out.
There's no mask this time.
I'm dragged down the stairs, through the great room, and into a big room that's like an empty drawing room.
The men slam the door shut, and I'm not alone.
Gretchen.
I hurry to her, but her gaze is stone. "Don't."
"I'm sorry?—"
"For what? Being forced to watch?"
"I..."
"Just don't." And she turns away from me.
Then I see where she's going. To the other end of the room.
And hanging there is a long white dress.
And I balk.
"A wedding dress?"
Gretchen nods. "For you."
I shake my head and start to back away. "No. No."
