“As you can see,” Kenneth’s voice cuts sharply through the room, addressing the crowd, “we are done here. Everyone back to the party. Miss Casella is just leaving.”
My father looks up, reminded of where he is. He turns to me, his face gone white. “Oh, kid,” he says, shaking his head. “You can’t be here. No, you . . .” He swings around, confirming we’re still in the Ruby. “I shouldn’t have let you stay so long,” he says. “Oh, God. I’m sorry.” He sets down Daniel’s arm and reaches for me. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
He pulls me to him, his body wracked with sobs. He realizes now that his son is actually dead. I lay my head on his shoulder, feeling like a little girl again. Forgiving my dad for leaving us after Mom died . . . because he’s my dad. The one I always knew but forgot about. He apologizes over and over, not just for the last few days in the Ruby, or for the accident on the dark highway. He’s sorry for every minute he’s wasted since my mother died. For every minute we’ve ever wasted.
“I’m sorry too, Dad,” I murmur, digging my fingers into the lapel of his jacket. I squeeze my eyes shut, inhaling the scent of my mother’s detergent. A smell of home. Wishing we could be there again.
“Yes, now, this is all very touching,” Kenneth says cruelly. “But we are on a schedule. And unless you plan on using your invitation, Miss Casella,” he continues, “I must ask you to return to your floor.”
My father and I pull apart, and he brushes back my hair, gazing at me. “I’ll miss you, kid,” he whispers. “More than I can bear.” He sniffles, wiping his cheeks and climbing to his feet. He straightens his jacket, smeared in blood, and nods like a gentleman at Elias.
Elias nods back and holds out his hand to me. I stare at his outstretched palm and then around the lobby. All its beauty and grandeur. The chandelier, the fireplace, the sparkling frames and rich tapestries. It’s a beautiful, terrible place. Or maybe that’s just because of Kenneth.
Most of the crowd has dissipated, returning to their roles in the party now that Kenneth has commanded it. The others have disappeared altogether, back in their own reality.
I let Elias help me up. Then I stand, looking down at my brother, at my blood-soaked dress. I should be afraid, but I’m not. Not anymore. Not of death. Not of Kenneth. The concierge narrows his eyes, as if my countenance confuses him.
“Miss Casella,” he hisses, losing his composure. “Your time is up. Return to your floor.”
From the ballroom the music gets louder. It’s my song—playing on the side of the road, on a loop. Here it’s slow, hard to recognize. It fills me with a sense of longing, but at the same time it reminds me of what I’ll be returning to. My body begins to feel heavy, to ache. I look back down at Daniel.
Across the lobby the staff door opens. Catherine and Joshua walk out, her hand on his arm. She’s a vision in a white dress, but that’s not the startling part; it’s Joshua, in a suit, tidied up like a guest. Kenneth’s eyes widen, and he takes a step toward them.
“What is the meaning of this?” he asks incredulously, his bald head growing pink. “Joshua, get back in uniform! Miss Masters, this is not appropriate.”
Catherine smiles, charming and lovely. She leaves Joshua’s side and saunters over to Kenneth, tilting her head slightly as she looks at him. “Yes, darling, I know,” she says arrogantly. She glances down at Daniel but quickly averts her eyes. “But you’ve killed my date. I had to improvise.”
Kenneth furrows his brow, trying to guess her intentions. He turns to Elias, about to command him to take her into the party instead, when there’s a flash of silver. Before any of us can react, Catherine grabs Kenneth’s head and swipes a knife across his throat, splitting it wide open, sending out a fan of blood.
Kenneth gurgles, sliding his eyes up in her direction, his fingers trying to close the wound. She sneers and lets him fall to his knees, choking on blood before he collapses to the floor.
“I’m tired of appropriate,” Catherine murmurs to his twitching body, and drops the knife with a clatter. She exhales, long and hard, and then smiles at Elias. “I see why the housekeeper does this so often,” she tells him. “Such satisfaction in it.”
Joshua comes to stand next to Catherine, pulling a handkerchief from his breast pocket and handing it to her. As she cleans the blood off her hands, they both stare down at Kenneth’s body with no emotion. Catherine looks over at me and smiles. “Thought you could use my distraction,” she says, indicating Joshua.
“Now you’d better hurry,” Joshua tells me. “It only takes him a few minutes to recover, and he’s going to be pissed.”