Hotel Ruby

“You’re dead,” I murmur, looking at Elias. “You died in the fire.” Elias shifts his gaze to mine. His expression bleeds sadness and regret. The ultimate loneliness. He nods and lowers his eyes to the bedsheets.

“The Ruby is a gorgeous and terrifying place, Audrey,” Joshua speaks up, his voice loud and cutting. “Normally, the people on the thirteenth floor get out thinking this was some wonderful dream. You’ve turned it into a nightmare.”

“It’s not her fault,” Elias responds quietly. “I brought her to the basement in the first place.”

Catherine laughs, rolling her perfectly lined eyes at him. “You’re such a sap,” she says. “Always on some romantic adventure. It was her error for following you like a puppy. I would have had more sense.”

“Yes, Cathy,” Joshua responds sarcastically. “Because you are the epitome of self-control.”

She smiles coldly. “No, darling,” she says. “I’m a bad decision waiting to happen. Now Eli, on the other hand . . .” She looks over at him, eyebrows up, willing him to play along. But he doesn’t even lift his head, lost in a wound I’ve reopened. Catherine sighs. “He’s good,” she tells me, although she’s still watching him. “Eli has always been good.”

I sit back in the chair; the idea of the Ruby being haunted is easier to accept when you’re intimately acquainted with its ghosts. “How can you stand it?” I ask. “Being here, day in and day out, the same every night? All of the tourists and ghost stories?”

“I’ve always hated that word,” Catherine responds. “?‘Ghost’—it implies that I float around in a white sheet, saying ‘Boo!’ I can’t interact with people, touch them. Hurt them.” She waves away the possibility. “What fun would it be, anyway? They can’t see me. Half the time I can’t even see them.”

“People,” I say. “You mean the others? Who are they?”

“They’re alive,” she says. “The others are the guests staying at the real Hotel Ruby, walking over our graves with hideous disregard. Talking loudly of encountering ghosts, when, believe me, they wouldn’t know a ghost if she walked up and asked them to dance.” She smiles. “They’re not always here, though. Sometimes they just fade out. Different realities, I suppose. Personally, I like when they’re gone. It’s quieter. And they occasionally leave things behind that become part of the hotel. The Ruby is where lost things end up—like you. It’s not awful. I get my best jewelry this way.”

Elias moves to loosen his tie from around his neck, and I feel a surge of sympathy for him. Affection. He told me that he understood grief, and I assumed someone he loved had died. In truth, he died, left to mourn the entire world.

From the bed Lourdes coughs, a painful sound. Joshua jumps up and comes to kneel next to her, murmuring that she’s fine. That she shouldn’t try to talk. Her eyes watch him lovingly, and I can see already that some of her skin is healing. Translucent and pale pink. Joshua kisses her forehead and sits on the floor, resting his temple on the edge of the bed close to hers. They’re all so connected. I envy their closeness, grateful they have each other. I can’t imagine how awful it would be to suffer through this alone.

“What happened the night of the fire?” I ask. “Why didn’t anyone get out?”

Catherine’s icy features thaw slightly, and she tilts her head as if asking permission to go on. Elias nods. “We have to start at the beginning, then,” she says, sitting back and crossing her legs. “It was 1937 and my fiancé was being honored. Well”—she smiles—“Elias’s family was being honored, but they were too busy to attend so they sent us in their place.”

Fiancé? Whether it matters now or not, my muscles tense. I have to fight the urge to look at Elias, even though I feel him watching my reaction. I’m a little angry that he didn’t tell me sooner. Then again, he didn’t tell me a lot of things. This is probably the least important.

“No need for jealously, Audrey,” Catherine calls out, confirming that I’m easy to read. “Elias never loved me, and I grew restless and bored of him. I slipped away for a drink and a distraction.”

“That would be me,” Joshua explains. “The distraction.”

Catherine groans, and snaps that it was only one time. Besides, her mother wouldn’t have allowed her to ride in the same car as him, let alone marry him. He tells her that if she had been engaged to him, they wouldn’t have been at such a miserable party to begin with. While they argue, I steal a glance at Elias. He’s emotionless, like he’s listened to this play out a million times. His eyes lift to mine, apologetic. Catherine and Joshua go on fighting, but for a moment it’s just me and Elias.

“Enough,” Catherine says to Joshua, holding up her hand. “Now”—she turns back to me—“where was I?”