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“It’s a craft,” he murmured dryly, and then glanced over the scene before us.
“Excuse me?” I glared at him, unsure of what I was hearing.
“Staying unapproachable, Sara.” The corners of his lips tugged upward. Heat spread across my chest as I glanced away, embarrassed.
A girl drifted toward us like she owned the dance floor. “Name’s Adrienne,” she purred, extending a hand toward him.
Kane simply looked at it.
I watched him, wanting nothing to do with the secondhand embarrassment.When he didn’t acknowledge her, she turned to me instead. “Nice to see you out, Sara. Didn’t think anyone could drag you from your cave.”
I blinked at her. I’d been at every party that summer and interacted with her, many times. People truly invented their own realities.
“Shut up, Adrienne,” another voice cut in. Chloe Wolfe, queen of the entire town. She hugged me, full of a friendliness that always surprised me. “Kane,” she said with a nod. Then to me, “Dance?”
Kane released my hand, stepping back into the shadows. “Go ahead, I’ll be here waiting.”
TWELVE
“Women are never more dangerous than when men mistake them as ornaments for display.”
— UNKNOWN
A frown creases my face as the handwriting seems to breathe across the page. The elegant curves and slanted twists rise like smoke, striking my chest with a quiet sorrow. Why was this left here for me?
A low, insistent gnaw accompanied by a creeping exhaustion pulls me from the mystery. Eat or sleep? Or venture outside? I choose to move.
I slip into a robe, tug on a pair of slippers that fit a little too perfect and brace myself for the labyrinth beyond my door. If my stomach were not growling like a feral animal, I might have stayed curled in my blankets, hidden away from the eeriness prowling these halls. But hunger has teeth.
“Time to brave this rickety home.” I lift my candelabra, its soft light trembling against the dark. The door clicks shut behind me, sealing off the small sanctuary of my room.
The hallway yawns ahead, shadow laden and quiet. I trace the turns Daisy showed me, surprising myself with how easily my feet remember them. Soon the grand staircase appears, its banister and balusters carved with intricate detail, gleaming faintly under candlelight. I descend, each step a muted echo against the cavernous foyer. The sensation of being watched follows closely.
To my left, the ballroom doors sit ajar, cracked open like an invitation. To my right, the Great Room waits in its half-lit sprawl. I wonder why Dr. Lazarus sealed off thresholds with salt? Wouldn’t it make more sense to spread it around the property? A simple glance at the windows shows tumbling snow and drifts piled high.
This certainly isn’t the world I’m used to—whatever I can piece together. This is different.
Clank.
The memory of fleeting shadows and noises from the other night stirs me into purpose and I continue my stride toward the kitchen. A slight tug of the lighting throws dubious shapes onto the wall; a shadow flits across my periphery. It didn’t help that Daisy showed up out of nowhere sometimes.
I’m not scared of this place. Not exactly. What unsettles me is the thought of something or someone catching me off guard. I’m already vulnerable with these lost memories of mine, already wandering blind through a world I know is not safe. Not knowing what waits in the dark is infuriating, like a test I never prepared for.
I pause midway in the hallway that leads toward the kitchen and dining room. A prickle skims the back of my neck. “You are not scared of the dark,” I mutter to myself, scolding my hesitation. With a steady pace, I step into the dining room, stopping short at the sight before me.
Before the large hearth with roaring flames, Tania and Dr. Lazarus sit, whispering with animation.
“I’m sorry—” I start, but am cut off by Tania shrieking when she spots me. A genuine startle that snaps her out of her usual composure. She presses a hand to her chest.
“I’m so sorry, we are not used to guests,” she blurts, rising from her seat.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.” I simply wave.
“Marisa.” Dr. Lazarus stands so abruptly his chair scrapes across the floor.
Heat crawls up my spine as I remember my clothing choices—a scanty robe and slippers. I fold my arms across my torso, aware of how exposed I am. I hadn’t expected him back so soon.
“Are you hungry, Marisa?” Tania asks, her voice gentler.
