Chapter 4 - Double Doors Closed
The sound of the doors shutting was louder than anything else in that hall.
I hadn't noticed the man by the double doors until he moved. He wasn't dressed like the rest of the guests. Black shirt, black pants, one of those little earpieces with a cord running down his neck. He grabbed both handles and pulled them in, and the heavy click echoed off the marble. The music from the other room cut off all at once.
Maya flinched at the sound. Her whole body jerked against my side. I could feel her shaking through her sheer sleeves, the kind of shaking she couldn't stop even when she tried to hold her breath. Her yellow dress was wrinkled where I'd been holding it.
"Hey," the man holding us said. His voice was low now, right against my ear. His arms were still around both of us, not letting go. "You're okay. I've got you."
He wasn't looking at us when he said it. He was looking past us at the crowd. People in suits and long dresses had moved in closer while we were on the floor. I could see shoes everywhere. Heels. Shiny loafers. Someone's phone pointed down at us.
"Back up," he said, louder. "Give them some air."
Nobody moved at first. They just stared. A woman in a silver dress had both hands over her mouth. A guy in a tux held a drink and didn't drink it.
"Please," the man said. "Back up. Now."
The event manager stepped forward fast, like that was his cue. He held his hands out, palms down, herding people the way I'd seen ranch hands move cattle on TV.
"Folks, let's give the family some room," he said. His smile didn't match his eyes. "Let's keep this private. Gala guests only. Doors are closed for the moment."
He kept repeating it while he walked a slow circle around us. People took two steps back, then three. Their shoes scraped on the marble. That scraping made Maya press her face harder into my shoulder. I put my hand flat on her back. Her dress felt thin and damp where she'd been crying.
"This is a private event," the manager said to a couple near the front. "Please put the phone away, sir. Thank you."
The man didn't look grateful. He kept one arm around Maya and used the other to pull me a little tighter.
"Dad—" Maya started, her voice cracked.
"Don't talk yet," he whispered. "Just breathe with me. In. Out. That's it."
I tried to do what he said, but my chest felt too tight. The chandeliers above us were too bright. Every crystal threw light down on the white floor, and the floor showed everything. The bat. The scuff marks from her heels. Her shadow stretching long beside her.
She was still on the floor where she'd fallen.
I'd thought she would stay down. She didn't. She pushed herself up on one elbow first, breathing hard. Her long dark hair had fallen over her face. She shoved it back with a shaking hand and then sat all the way up. Her burgundy dress had twisted around her legs. She grabbed the velvet and pulled it straight over her knees, smoothing it down twice, hard, like if the dress looked right then the rest of it didn't happen.
She didn't look at us. She looked at the circle of people watching her.
"Everyone needs to calm down," she said. Her voice was rough. She cleared her throat and tried again, smoother. "The children were misbehaving. This is being blown out of proportion."
The event manager glanced at her, then quickly away. He kept moving people back until there was an empty space around the four of us and the bat. Just white marble. No one inside it except me and Maya and him and her.
May you like
Maya's shaking got worse when she heard that voice. I felt it start in her shoulders and run all the way down.
I didn't let go of her.
