Chapter 3 - The Suite Behind the Ballroom
The marble was cold through my coat and my pants and I could feel it seeping into my socks. Evelyn was still kneeling in front of me and she hadn't moved. She held my mom's necklace between both hands like it might break if she squeezed it.
Behind her I saw two men in black suits cutting through the circle of guests. One of them had an earpiece. They walked fast, like they were coming to pick me up and carry me out.
Evelyn must have heard their shoes because she turned her head. Then she shifted. She didn't stand up. She moved her shoulder and her back between me and them, so her teal dress blocked my view of the room. All I could see was the back of her sleeve and the way her blonde hair was pinned up.
"Step back," she said. Her voice was low but it snapped. It wasn't loud, it just cut through everything.
The men stopped. The one in front said, "Mrs. Whitmore, we can handle this."
"No," she said. "Step back. Now."
They didn't move right away. The guests were all staring. No one was whispering now. I could hear the chandelier buzzing a little and my own breathing. I kept holding my hands in my lap because I didn't know what to do with them.
Evelyn didn't look at them anymore. She looked at me. Her eyes were wet. She let one hand go from the necklace and held it out, palm up, about an inch from my arm. She waited.
"You can get up," she said quietly. "Can you stand with me?"
I nodded even though I wasn't sure. My boots were wet and my coat was heavy with water. When I put my hand in hers, her fingers were cold and her nails were painted a pale pink. She didn't yank me. She steadied me while I got my knees under me. The marble was slick where I'd been sitting.
When I stood, my coat slipped farther off my shoulder. She fixed it without asking, pulling it up. She kept her hand on my back, right between my shoulder blades.
"Come with me," she whispered. It wasn't like she was ordering the guards. It was like she was asking.
We had to walk through the guests to get out. They made a path but they didn't move far. I saw a woman in a black gown holding a glass, a man with a camera phone half raised then lowered. The light from the chandeliers made everything look gold and warm but the marble floor under us was still white with gray veins. I stared at those veins so I didn't have to look at their faces.
Evelyn's hand stayed on my back the whole way. Her teal gown brushed against my wet coat. Up close I could see the fabric wasn't flat — it had tiny stitched lines that caught the light. And her earrings swung when she walked. Dark teardrops, almost black blue, that matched the stone on my mom's necklace. I'd never seen anyone wear earrings like that outside of a store window.
The way she held the necklace, pinched careful between her thumb and finger while her other hand guarded me, made my chest feel tight. She held it like she knew it. Not like something she'd just found on a floor.
At the edge of the ballroom there was a doorway I hadn't noticed before, with a little brass sign next to it. A man in a hotel vest opened it for us without Evelyn having to say anything. The hallway behind it was narrower and quieter. The carpet was thick and red and it swallowed our steps. The sound of the ballroom got fainter with every step.
My boots left wet spots on the carpet.
We stopped at a dark wooden door. Evelyn let go of my back to turn the handle, but she used her body to keep me close, like someone might still try to get to me from behind. She pushed the door open.
It was a dressing suite. Smaller than the ballroom but still big. There was a vanity with a bright mirror and lights around it, a couch, a rack with coats already hung up. It smelled like perfume and clean towels. Someone had left a tray with water glasses on a table.
Evelyn closed the door behind us and turned the lock. The click was loud.
She let out a breath. I watched her shoulders drop a little.
She pulled out one of the chairs at the vanity and looked at me. "Here," she said. "Sit. You’re soaked."
I sat. The chair was soft and too big. She went to a cabinet by the wall and got a white towel, folded thick. She didn't hand it to me right away. She kneeled again so we were eye level, like she had on the marble floor, and draped it around my shoulders. The towel was warm.
I pulled it tighter and water dripped from my hair onto it. In the bright vanity lights I could see her face better. The makeup around her eyes was smudged a little now. Her earrings hung right next to her jaw.
"You're cold," she said.
I didn't answer. I was looking at the necklace still in her hand. She'd set her palm flat and the gold chain pooled there, the blue stone dark against her skin. She hadn't opened it. She just held it.
She glanced down at it too, then back at me. Her mouth was a straight, soft line.
"What's your name?" she asked.
I swallowed. "Maya."
Her eyes moved over my face and stopped near my ear. I knew she was looking at the little mole my mom always said looked like a freckle that stuck around.
"Maya," she repeated quietly, like she was trying to remember how to say it right.
May you like
Outside the locked door, I could hear someone walk past in the hallway, and farther off, the low hum of all those people in the ballroom still talking about us.
Evelyn stayed kneeled in front of my chair, the necklace resting in her open hand between us, not saying anything else for a second. The vanity lights buzzed. My breathing fogged the air just a little.
