When I get to the double doors, they’re closed. I doubt my brother is inside, but my curiosity gets the best of me. I saw the room in all its grandeur two nights ago, but I wonder how it looks without the glittering gowns. I decide to find out. Slowly I pull open the door just a crack and lean my head in to see first if Daniel or anyone else is inside. The room is too dark to see anything beyond the light that’s seeping in from the hallway.
No Daniel, but I slip in the door anyway, and find the main light switches on the wall next to the entrance. I flip them on and the center of the room explodes in brilliant color. The reds ooze opulence; the chandelier sparkles, casting rays of light in patterns on the floor. It takes a minute for me to catch my breath, completely charmed by the space. Even so, it’s lifeless without the party. A beautiful, dead room. Lonely and tragic.
I think for a moment about Lourdes’s story. I have no reason to doubt it, but the tragedy is suffocating, especially now that I’m in the ballroom. No one tried to save those people, and I almost feel their sadness hanging in the room. They must have fought to live, to get out. What did they think when they realized the doors were locked?
My skin prickles, and I glance around, taking in more of the adornments. Lourdes told me that people come from all over to hang with the ghosts that reside here. The corners in the back of the ballroom are still heavy with shadows. Suddenly this entire place feels like a grave.
Behind me is the soft click of the door shutting, and I turn, startled. My heartbeat starts to hasten, ticking in my ears. I want to blame the wind, but I feel none. I’m sure as hell not going to blame the ghosts.
“Still interested in the party, I see,” a voice calls from across the room. I yelp and spin around, nearly tripping over my crossed ankles. Kenneth stands at the back of the room, and I’m alarmed to think he’s been here the entire time. At least, I assume that’s Kenneth. His burgundy suit and frame are a match, but his face is hidden in the darkness. I can make out the shape of his bald head, see his pudgy fingers folded in front of him where he rests them against his chest. But not seeing his eyes makes him seem . . . sinister.
I take a step back.
“I’m sorry to inform you,” he continues, not moving any closer, “that an invitation has not become available to you. And as I’ve told you, the parties are invite only.”
Agitation nudges me. “How did Daniel get one, then? Or my father?”
Kenneth unclasps his hands to hold them out apologetically. “It’s up to the Ruby,” he says, as if that makes any sense at all. “Perhaps after you leave, you’ll understand their reasoning.”
“Mm . . . perhaps,” I respond sarcastically. I’m about to walk out, chalking this up to creepy-interaction-with-concierge day, when Kenneth calls my name. I glance over my shoulder at him, more intimidated than I want to admit. “Yeah?”
“I’ve noticed you consorting with the staff. Thought I’d mention that interaction between staff and guests is frowned upon. They face reprimands if you keep them from their work.”
“Are you spying on me?” I demand. “And besides, I don’t think you can make that rule. They’re not your property. They’re your employees.”
“As such, they abide by the rules of the Ruby. I enforce them. They will be punished for their disregard. It may be best if you spend the remainder of your stay in your room, Miss Casella. Out of trouble.”
“It may be better if you back off before I report you for harassment to your management company, Kenneth. And just a heads-up, I will let them know how shitty you treat your staff. Have a great day,” I say, mock-saluting him.
I turn back to the door, and behind me there’s a sudden and terrifying breeze. A dark, impending echo, like the rush of an animal behind me, ready to attack. To eat me alive, I think. My hand shoots out to grasp the door handle, scared it will be locked somehow, but it turns easily. I yank it open and dart a quick look back at Kenneth, mostly to see if he’s still there.
The concierge stands, still half in the shadows, hands folded over his chest again. He steps forward, flooding his face with light to finally let me see him. He smiles pleasantly.
“Give my regards to Elias,” he calls dismissively. Kenneth turns on the heel of his shiny shoe and walks to a round table. He runs his palm over the white cloth to smooth it down, tugging aggressively on the hem.
Any confidence I faked dissipates, and my stomach knots. Okay—I get it. Kenneth is totally fucking scary. I quickly leave the ballroom, set on finding my brother. Once I tell Daniel about the concierge, I’ll let him deal with it. Now I wish he’d brought his bat after all.
Chapter 11
I walk directly to the elevator and then take it to the sixth floor. In the hall I cast looks behind me, afraid Kenneth or an unknown monster might attack at any moment. There are noises in the other suites as I pass—life, unlike the dead silence on my floor. When I get to Daniel’s room, I press myself against the door and bang on it. Unease settles over me, and I replay my conversation with Kenneth in my head.