Page 51

"Emma," Victoria said softly, her tone dropping into a cadence that made Emma’s stomach flip. "I need you to be quiet for ten seconds."

Emma shifted her weight. The space was incredibly cramped. Every time Victoria moved her arm, her shoulder brushed against Emma’s chest. The friction was doing terrible things to Emma’s pulse.

"Try the red switch," Emma suggested.

"The red switch connects to the water pump," Victoria said without looking away.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I read the schematic a few weeks ago and this is the only thing I remember clearly." Victoria flipped a blue switch. Nothing happened. She cursed softly under her breath.

"Maybe it is the yellow one," Emma offered.

"Emma, shut up," Victoria said calmly. She reached up and grabbed a heavy lever at the top. She pulled it down with a sharp tug, then slammed it back up.

A loud hum vibrated through the walls. Outside, the crowd erupted into cheers. The muffled sound of orchestral music blasted through the garden.

"You did it," Emma whispered.

"I did," Victoria agreed. She turned off the flashlight to save the battery. The shed plunged into total darkness. The only illumination came from the cracks in the wood, glowing with the rhythmic flashes of the projection outside.

"So," Emma said into the dark. "How do we leave now?"

"We don't," Victoria replied. The pale glow of her phone illuminated her profile as she tapped the screen. "I am calling Chloe."

The line rang four times before dropping to voicemail. Victoria let out a sharp sigh. "She is not answering. She is probably watching the show by now. Can you call Lucy?"

"I do not have my phone at all," Emma admitted.

Victoria slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floorboards. "Then we wait. When the projection is over in thirty minutes, someone will realize we are missing."

Emma hesitated, feeling her way down the wooden door to sit opposite Victoria. Their knees bumped in the narrow space, but Emma didn't pull back. The air smelled of dry wood and the perfume Victoria always wore.

"At least I have a drink," Emma offered, gesturing with the plastic cup.

Victoria eyed it in the dim light. "What is it?"

"A rose spritz."

"I do not drink pink cocktails."

"Victoria, we are trapped in a box for half an hour. It is either the spritz or dehydration."

Victoria sighed in defeat. She reached out and took a small, hesitant sip. Her nose wrinkled slightly.

"I thought you hated pink cocktails," Emma teased.

"I am compromising," Victoria countered, shifting her weight and leaning her head back against the wooden wall. "Desperate times."

As she moved, her shoulder bumped the wall. The shed rattled slightly. Something dropped from the shelf above. It landed directly on Victoria’s head with a soft rustle. Victoria let out an undignified yelp. She flinched violently, batting at her hair with both hands. "What is that?" she gasped, her voice losing all its composure. "Is it a spider? Get it off, get it off!"

Emma blinked. The flashing light from outside illuminated the chaos. It was not a spider. It was a bundle of dried lavender, and Victoria was aggressively tangling it into her chignon. Emma pressed a hand over her mouth, but a laugh burst out anyway.

Victoria stopped swatting. She glared into the dark, her chest heaving. "I am being attacked by local wildlife and you are laughing."

"You are being attacked by potpourri," Emma corrected, her shoulders shaking. "It is a branch."

"A branch?"