Page 49

A grid of rooms appears, and I select Hazel’s feed.

Yes! Ella is still there.

Hazel stands near the window, her arms folded, as Matteo opens his case. Simone readies a footbath for Ella.

And Ella…

She sits in a chair near the mirror.

And for one second, the room, the gala, the empire, my father…all of it falls away.

Ella.

Ella in my mother’s silver dress.

Only it could never have belonged to anyone but Ella. It was made for her. It fits her as if it’s melded to her skin. The bodice shows her ample chest, and…

Oh, God…

Mr. Stanley will see her like this.

Every man at the gala will see her like this.

Why did I choose this dress? I remember my mother wearing it, how beautiful she looked.

But Ella…

I should have chosen a burlap sack. With a high collar.

On the screen, Matteo circles behind her and gathers her hair in his hands.

It’s soft as silk. Already I know this, and I imagine my own fingers are threading through her locks.

“Not too severe,” Hazel says. “She isn’t going to a sentencing.”

Matteo laughs. “I promise. Soft. Romantic. A few pieces down around the face.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Ella says.

“It means,” Matteo says, “you’ll look effortless.”

Ella snorts. “Nothing about this is effortless.”

“No,” Hazel says. “That’s the trick. Make the impossible look easy so men can pretend women aren’t doing all the work.”

Matteo points at her in the mirror. “Exactly.”

Ella laughs.

I don’t like that he made her laugh. Matteo is good-looking, though a little thin, with brown hair and eyes. He wears a wedding band, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t shag Ella if he had the chance.

The thought makes me want to vomit.

Simone kneels in front of Ella and works on her feet. She chooses a silvery blue polish that goes well with the dress…and with Ella’s eyes.

Damn…

Hazel moves behind Ella and adjusts the strap of her dress a fraction. “Do you know Mr. Stanley at all?”