Chapter 9 - Show Us What She Hid in the Corner
Marcello didn't move from the door. His back was against it, his hand still flat on the wood behind him, and the room felt smaller for it.
The blonde woman stood near the vanity with her arms crossed low under her belly. Lily stood between us, her small hand still wrapped around two of my fingers.
"Show us what?" Marcello said. His voice was level. He looked at Lily when he said it, not at her. "Show us what exactly?"
Lily didn't answer right away. She looked down at the carpet, then toward the half-open door on the far side of the suite. The bathroom door. The light in there was off, but the hall light cut a thin line across the tile.
She tugged my hand once toward it.
I glanced at Marcello. He gave a short nod. Permission to move, but not to leave.
We crossed the carpet together. My shoes made no sound on the thick pile. Lily's shoes squeaked once. The blonde woman didn't follow at first. She stayed by the vanity, watching us in the mirror instead of turning around.
The bathroom was cold compared to the suite. White tile, a wide sink, the smell of soap and hot pipes. In the corner beside the sink cabinet sat a tall wicker hamper with a lid. A folded white bath towel hung over the edge, half tucked inside like someone had set it down in a hurry.
Lily stopped in front of it and pointed.
"There," she said.
My tray was still on the vanity outside. My left hand was empty. I could feel Marcello step up behind us, close enough that his shadow fell over the hamper.
I looked at Lily. "The hamper, baby?"
She nodded hard, her bows bouncing. "Under the towel."
For a second I didn't move. I was thinking about my shift, about the catering manager downstairs, about what it meant to open something in a room I wasn't supposed to be in. Then Marcello said, very quiet, "Go ahead."
I lifted the towel.
It was heavier than a towel should have been, folded around something. I set it on the edge of the sink and looked down into the hamper.
Inside, tucked on top of a pile of used hand towels, was a shape I recognized now from upstairs. A flesh-toned curve, smooth and rounded, with an elastic strap twisted around it. A second insert. Smaller than the one Lily had found in the linen bag, but the same make. The same matte fabric that caught the bathroom light and didn't give it back.
My stomach dropped. I didn't pick it up. I just held the towel in both hands and stared.
Marcello leaned in. He didn't touch it either. He breathed out through his nose, slow.
"What's that?" he said.
I couldn't answer. Lily answered for me.
"Another belly," she said.
Behind us, heels clicked on tile. The blonde woman had come to the bathroom doorway. I saw her reflection first in the medicine cabinet mirror, her face tight, her hand pressed to the side of her magenta gown.
She looked past me into the hamper and her mouth opened, then closed.
"That's — that's my backup," she said quickly. "For an accident."
Marcello turned his head toward her. He didn't raise his voice.
"Backup for what accident?" he said.
She gripped the doorframe. "For if something happened to the first one. I told you, these things slip. I had catering bring an extra up earlier. Ask anyone downstairs."
Her eyes flicked to me. A plea and a warning at once. I looked away and folded the towel over my arm to keep my hands busy.
May you like
Lily pressed closer to my leg. "She put it there," she whispered, loud in the small room. "After it fell off."
No one moved. The faucet dripped once into the sink. Marcello stared into the hamper, then at the woman in the doorway, and the quiet stretched until I could hear the music again, faint through the floor from the ballroom below.
