way to the servants’ quarters, I just hoped Lottie had found Grayson. Nearly a month I hadn’t seen Grayson. I hoped Lottie got him my message. I hoped he was okay.
I made my way to the one room where I knew most of the servants would be, where time stood still in Crowne Hall. It was just like a year ago, when I’d first come down looking for information to free myself from Grayson. They played cards, did shots beneath the gothic chandelier, as bells rung signaling who was to be called next.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
A servant paused when they saw me, carrying a tray of white swan-shaped truffles. “Miss du Lac? Is there something we can help you with?”
“Yes, actually.”
He blinked. “Story?”
Everyone froze, beer pong balls skittering into the corners.
“We heard you died,” someone said.
What? They thought I died?
My heart skittered to a halt as I imagined what that meant for Grayson. The pain. Yet…I had to swallow it again, because we only had a small window of time to do this.
I lifted the mask off my face, so they could look me in the eyes. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“That’s not— Is it really you?”
A girl with red hair shoved their friend. “I told you that Instagram post was real.”
Murmurs started up, a soft wave of sound rolling through the small room.
“Why are you back?”
Because I still have hope that we can be a family again.
“I was told I had a following. I was also told there are quite a few of you who don’t like me.”
I could see it now, a few of their eyes shifting to the ground.
“I’m taking a really big leap here, because I don’t know who I can trust, but my back is pressed to the wall and I need you.”
So, I’d do what I did best.
I’ll bleed.
“I never really had a home until Crowne Hall,” I said softly. “I know I’m not alone. We’re treated like garbage, but we’re family. At least, I thought we were. Then when I needed you the most, you abandoned me. I’ve been in hell for months and no one asked me what was going on. Before this, I’d cried with you. I’d baked birthday cakes for you. You’d taught me how to drive. I know my uncle was like a father to some of you, and when he died you locked me away so I couldn’t be at his memorial.”
“Story—”
“What?” I demanded. “Am I lying?”
Silence fell across the room.
“You all always say you’re better than them. You say you aren’t cruel and you treat people with dignity, but having lived up there for a while now, I can tell you you’re all exactly the same.”
They shifted on their feet.
“I’m not here to make you feel bad, as if I’m any better. Because if you read my letter, you know I’m not. I think we’re on the same side.”
One by one, their eyes found mine.
“I need help,” I said. “I know you keep recordings and evidence, that you have proof of the whispers we hear…I have firsthand experience of that.” I looked away, pushing my tongue into my cheek.
The whole reason that video of me and Grayson existed was because of them.
I’d hated it, been violated by it, but in the end, it might save us.
“What else do you have? Do you have anything on Beryl Crowne? I want to put him away for what he’s done to Josephine and anyone else.”
They shared looks, shifting on their feet. It was one thing to go after me, but Beryl Crowne? Even if they did have proof, it’s like asking them to go on a suicide mission.
“I’m done living like them,” I said. “This place used to be my home, and it will be my home again. There will be laughter, and warmth, and love in Crowne Hall. Will you help me?”
Jane stepped forward. “We have everything.”
Seventy-One
GRAY
Somewhere, hidden beneath the feathered masks, my wife was alive. Every laugh, every flutter of a mask, my heart jolted.
Alive.
Alive and here.
The clinking of champagne glasses started out small, then grew until everyone was silenced. My grandfather took the stage erected on the sprawling lawn below the terrace. At his back, the iron waves crashed beneath the moonlight, and the occasional swan hissed.
Lynette stood next to him. I was sure Lynette was happy Arthur was dead. That weight around her neck finally gone. She was never a du Lac anyway, not really.
Was it worth it, selling her soul to the devil?
“Tonight is more