Page 224 of Sinister

She frowns. “You have?”

“Yes.”

“I think you’re right,” she mutters. “Be a dear and get me another one of those glasses, will you?”

Perhaps I should have said no, that she’s had enough. But this is probably the first time she’s had spirits—or at least this much. I grab a glass from one of the servers and hand it to her.

At that moment, the crowd parts to reveal my father and brother.

“There,” my father says, glaring at me. He has a murderous expression on his face. “Where have you been?” he demands, voice low and menacing.

“What do you mean? I’ve been right here. Right, Mother?”

“Yes, yes,” she says, struggling to keep the slur out of her words. “She’s been with me.”

He frowns. “I was looking for you and did not see you,” he says, his words slow and measured.

“I must have been in the restroom. Did something happen?”

“Your behavior before . . . it is unacceptable. You will find Mr. Snowden, and you will apologize.”

Why would I apologize to Mr. Snowden when he wasn’t even there to hear my words? I think to myself—but I don’t voice it aloud. I won’t give my father more reason to be angry, not when we have a plan to put in motion.

“Of course, Father. As you say,” I reply dutifully.

He frowns, clearly surprised by how easily I agree, but lets the matter drop. With a loud huff, he turns on his heel and walks away.

I glance around and note that Mr. Snowden has returned to the party. He looks worse for wear, and there are new bruises on his neck, which he’s trying very hard to hide with the collar of his shirt. I press my lips into a thin line and shake my head.

Hypocrite. And my father wants me to marry that man? In his dreams. Oh, they’ll get a taste of their own medicine soon enough.

Through the crowd of faceless people, I spot someone else—Leah. She’s dashing out of the ballroom into the hallway, looking rather upset and slightly green in the face.

“I’m going to the lady’s room, Mother.”

“Yes, yes,” she murmurs, completely out of it.

I follow Leah and see her slip into the ladies’ room. I go in after her. The first sound I hear is retching. Then sobbing.

“Leah, are you all right?”

She doesn’t answer at first.

“It’s just me, Petra. There’s no one else in here.”

A few moments later, she comes out of the stall, wiping her mouth and heading to the sink to rinse her hands and face. She glances at me, worried.

“Are you all right? Is my brother mistreating you in any way?” I ask, truly concerned for her.

If we manage to unmask Snowden for the devil he is, Leah will face repercussions, too. But maybe, just maybe, we can turn this around. Maybe instead of suffering, she can be freed. She won’t be forced to marry my brother.

“Please tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “You can’t do anything.”

“You’re wrong. I can help you.”

She shakes her head again. A lone tear slides down her cheek.