The event was held in an art museum. We entered on the upper floor and descended a massive marble staircase into the exhibit hall. By the time I was halfway down, everyone in the room was either staring at me or not staring in a way that was worse.
At the bottom of the stairs, I saw Grayson. He wore a tuxedo exactly the way he wore a suit. He was holding a glass—clear, with clear liquid inside. The moment he saw me, he froze in place, as suddenly and fully as if someone had stopped time. I thought back to standing with him at the bottom of the hidden staircase, to the way he'd looked at me, and on some level, I thought that was the way he was looking at me now. I thought I'd taken his breath away. Then he dropped the glass in his hand. It hit the floor and shattered, shards of crystal spraying everywhere.
What happened? What did I do? Alisa nudged me to keep moving. I finished descending the stairs as the waitstaff hurried over to clean up the glass.
Grayson stared at me. "What are you doing?" His voice was guttural.
"I don't understand," I said.
"Your hair," Grayson choked out. He lifted his free hand to my braid, his fingers nearly touching it before he pulled them into a fist. "That necklace. That dress..."
"What?" I said.
The only word he managed in reply was a name.
Emily.
It was always Emily. Somehow, I made my way to the bathroom without looking too much like I was running away. I fumbled to tear my phone out of the black satin handbag I'd been given, unsure what I was planning to do with the phone once I got it out. Someone stepped up to the mirror beside me.
"You look nice," Thea said, casting a glance sidelong at me. "In fact, you look perfect."
I stared at her, and comprehension dawned. "What did you do, Thea?" She glanced down at her own phone, hit a few buttons, and a moment later, I had a text. I hadn't even realized she had my number. I opened the text and the picture attached, and all of the blood drained from my face. In this photo, Emily Laughlin wasn't laughing. She was smiling at the camera—a wicked little smile, like she was on the verge of a wink. Her makeup was natural, but her eyes looked unnaturally large, and her hair... Was exactly like mine.
"What did you do?" I asked Thea again, more accusation this time than question. She'd invited herself along on my shopping trip. She was the one who'd suggested I wear green—just like Emily wore in this photo. Even my necklace was eerily like hers. I'd assumed, when the stylist had asked if I wanted to look like the picture, that Alisa was the one who'd supplied it. I'd assumed it was a photo of a model. Not a dead girl.
"Why would you do this?" I asked Thea, amending my question.
"It's what Emily would have wanted." Thea pulled a tube of lipstick out of her purse. "If it's any consolation," she said, once she was finished turning her lips a sparkling ruby red, "I didn't do this to you." She'd done it to them.
"The Hawthornes didn't kill Emily," I spat. "Rebecca said that it was her heart." Technically, she'd said that Grayson had said it was her heart.
"How sure are you that the Hawthorne family isn't trying to kill you?" Thea smiled. She had been there this morning. She'd been shaken. And now she was acting like this was all a joke.
"There is something fundamentally wrong with you," I said. My fury didn't seem to penetrate.
"I told you the day we met that the Hawthorne family was a twisted, broken mess." She stared at the mirror a moment longer. "I never said that I wasn't one, too."
"Thea, I think you have a party to return to." I looked into the mirror to see Catalina at the doorway. She was wearing a gold dress and had her hair up in a braid that was wrapped into a bun. I looked at Thea who just shrugged and left.
"Did you know?" I asked as she rushed over.
"I promise I had no idea this is what she had in mind." She looked at the picture on my phone. "Until I saw Grayson." She then put her hands to my necklace and started taking it off.
"The necklace is easy, but the hair may be a bigger problem." I realized she was trying to change up my look. It had taken two people to put it up. It would take an act of God to get it down.
"Avery?" Alisa stuck her head into the bathroom.
"Help me," Catalina told her.
"With what?"
"My hair." I looked in the mirror as Catalina started undoing one of my braids, Alisa stood there for a second before joining her.
"I shouldn't have pushed you," Alisa said, her voice low. "This is too much, too soon, isn't it?"
"Do you know who I look like?" I asked her. I shoved the necklace in her face. She took it from my hands.
She frowned. "Who you look like?" That seemed like an honest question from a person who didn't like asking questions she didn't already know the answers to.
"Emily Laughlin." I couldn't keep from cutting a glance back to the mirror. "Thea dressed me up just like her."
It took Alisa a moment to process that. "I didn't know." She paused, considering. "The press won't, either. Emily was just an ordinary girl." There was nothing ordinary about Emily Laughlin. I didn't know when I'd come to believe that. The moment I'd seen her picture? My conversation with Rebecca? The very first time I'd said it to Grayson?" If you stay in this bathroom much longer, people will take note," Alisa warned me. "They already have. For better or worse, you need to get out there." I'd come tonight because in some twisted way I'd thought that putting on a happy face would protect Libby. I'd hardly be here if my own sister had tried to have me killed, would I?
"Fine," I told Alisa through gritted teeth. "But if I do this for you, I want your word that you'll protect my sister in any way you can. I don't care what your deal is with Nash, or what Nash's is with Libby. You don't just work for me anymore. You work for her, too." I saw Alisa swallowing back whatever it was she really wanted to say.
All that exited her mouth was: "You have my word." I then looked at Catalina in the mirror who was still messing with my hair.
"I can't do much it's a complicated hairstyle but now it's at least a bit different, you shouldn't be able to notice as much." She hadn't been able to undo the braid but now instead of the braid going around the side of my head it sat in the back, a couple of strands of hair now stuck out due to me messing with it beforehand. I took a deep breath, stuffed the probably super expensive necklace into my bag and followed Catalina and Alisa out of the bathroom.
Catalina's Pov
I looked around the dining hall for Jameson but didn't see him, I hadn't seen him so far today so I headed to the hallway he usually wanders to. The wing was closed. The lights were dim, and the exhibit rooms were blocked off, but the corridor was open. I walked down the long hall, up ahead, there was a light shining, bright against all its surroundings. The cord blocking off this exhibit room had been moved to one side. Stepping past it felt like stepping out of a dark theater and into the sun. The room was bright. Even the frames on the paintings were white. There was only one person in the room, wearing a tuxedo without the jacket. He was standing in front of a small painting, looking at it intently from three or four feet away. He glanced at me as I walked toward him, then turned back to the painting.
"Jamie." I said quietly almost a whisper. He looked at me, he only turned back to the painting when I was stood next to him.
"Cézanne's Four Brothers,"
"A Hawthorne favorite." I said smiling.
We both sat in silence for a moment before he turned to me, "I'm sorry, I should of told you about the clue. I heard about this morning what was going to happen you guys had already left. I was worrie-
"Jae, Jamie. It's okay, I was tired and stressed from everything. I shouldn't have yelled at you, you were only trying to help me."
He just nodded, "This whole thing..." he paused for a moment. "The old man must have been working on this puzzle for a while. He must of knew he was dying." I just nodded. "First Emily, and then the old man."
I looked straight into his eyes, "You know it wasn't your fault."
"But it was, I should have done something."
"There was nothing you could have done, she was dying. No matter what you would have done the outcome would have been the same." He looked away.
"When they took you, when you went back with your dad. . . I was miserable, you were the best thing in my life." He looked back at me. "You still are."
"I don't know what I would do without you." He looked perfect, his dark hair was out of his face showing off his bright green eyes that seemed to shine in the dark. The top button of his shirt was unbuttoned and his blazer laid crumbled up on the bench. "Would you like to dance?"
He smiled, "Of course, M'lady."