I scoff, not worried so much about my appearance as I am about surviving. But Catherine turns around, leveling her icy stare at me. “I’m not kidding,” she says. “If you show up like this, covered in . . . is that a piece of skin?—your father will panic. Daniel will want to help. Other guests will notice. Act like a civilized person or you’ll be assigned somewhere else.”
“And believe me,” Joshua says, running his hand through his dark hair. “There are worse places than the basement.”
“Much worse,” Catherine agrees. “Now go before I have Joshua bring me a fire hose to spray you down.”
Joshua sits in the chair, putting his feet up on the desk. “That could prove entertaining,” he says wryly.
I shoot him a disgusted look and then turn to walk into Catherine’s bathroom. Before I close the door, she passes me a pile of things and I set them on the counter. I slam the door in her face and lock it.
This is ridiculous. I don’t think anyone will care what I’m wearing when I’m trying to—
I stop short, seeing my reflection for the first time. I’m a horror show, bloodier than I realized. There is an arc of bright red blood across my cheek and eye, a smear of it across my forehead. My hair is matted and stiff, and leftover mascara has blackened beneath my eyes.
“Play your part,” Catherine said. Maybe if I do, I can go home. Then again, maybe none of this is even real. I turn toward the door. Maybe they’re not real.
I listen at the bathroom door, and although I can hear both Catherine’s and Joshua’s voices, I can’t make out their words. I walk over to the shower and turn the dial as hot as it will go. I’m still barefoot, my sandals lost somewhere in the lobby, but I peel off my shirt and jeans, wincing at how revolting they are. I want Kenneth’s blood off of me.
I get under the spray of water and adjust the temperature. I use my nails to pick through my stiffened hair, then shampoo and condition as quickly as possible. When I’m clean, I turn off the faucet, wondering what exactly Catherine expects me to wear. I climb out of the shower, checking the still-locked door, and then wrap myself in a towel.
I hurry and change into a pair of too-tight jeans and a blouse with strained buttons. Catherine’s a bit thinner than humanly possible, I decide, and I quickly use her comb to untangle my hair. When I’m done, I wait, surrounded by the quiet of the bathroom. Once I step outside, I don’t know what I’ll find. I don’t know who I’ll find.
“You’re getting out of this hotel,” I tell my reflection, and then slip my feet into a pair of heels. I stand there feeling absurd, but if you didn’t know me, this outfit might be normal. But I’m not even sure what the hell normal is anymore.
I’m startled by a knock on the door. “Do you mind?” Catherine calls. “I’d like to finish getting ready for the party. Unlike you, I actually try to appeal to the opposite sex.” She laughs, and I walk over to unlock the door and open it. Catherine studies me and then hitches up her eyebrow. “It’s an improvement, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you,” I say, and push past her back into the room. Joshua nods and agrees with Catherine that I’m definitely improved, and I turn to both of them. “So what am I supposed to do now?” I demand.
Catherine sighs and motions for Joshua to answer me instead. I know she told me to run around and act like nothing’s wrong, but I can’t do that.
Joshua presses his lips into a sympathetic smile. “You live,” he says simply. “You live, Audrey. The Ruby will do the rest.” He and Catherine exchange a look, and then Catherine strolls into the bathroom.
“Oh, wait,” she says, poking her head back out. “If you see Elias, will you be a dear and tell him I’m looking for him?” I don’t respond, still not clear about what I’m supposed to do. Catherine motions to the door. “Run along now. And whatever you do”—she pauses, apologetic and regretful—“stay away from that party.” She tightens her jaw and shuts the bathroom door.
Unable to bear another second with her, I leave the room and let the door slam shut behind me. Now, in the deserted hallway, I stand, afraid and confused. Catherine said Kenneth couldn’t hurt me—but do I believe that? I’ve seen him attack Lourdes, seen how terrified of him everyone is. Would he have already done something to me if he could have? And what does any of this have to do with the thirteenth floor?
I can’t stay here and go along—live, as Joshua said—knowing this place is honest-to-God haunted. Knowing that Kenneth is in control of my life. And then there’s my family. They plan to stay here—do they know already? Did they try to leave and couldn’t? But more disturbingly, if they know the truth about this place . . . why won’t they tell me? Why won’t Daniel?
I get into the guest elevator, scared but determined. Even at my worst my brother didn’t desert me. He stuck with me while our dad evaporated, made sure I held together when I found out we were moving. Until today he was the person I trusted most in the world, the only one who truly understood my grief.
And so I press the button for the sixth floor. Daniel told me he didn’t want to fight—well, too bad. Let’s have it out. But when it’s done, we’re getting out of here. We’re getting out of here together.