to her room and lose herself in Twelfth Night or Cymbeline, imagining the stage sets and costumes in her head as she read.
“I’m sorry, I’m out of my element here.” Darby fiddled with her cutlery as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
“There, now.” Stella lowered her voice. “I felt the same way before I settled in. Granite Falls doesn’t even have a bus depot, so you can imagine how overwhelming this was for me when I arrived.”
For the first time, Darby noticed the other girl spoke with a soft Southern lilt. Her voice was musical, like a song.
“I like your accent.”
“Thank you. I try to play it down—the modeling agency thinks it makes me seem unsophisticated.”
“How can they say that? It’s beautiful, like a melody.”
Stella drew back, pleased. “That’s so well put. You should be a writer.”
“You’re kind, but I can’t waste time daydreaming. I’m here to learn to be a secretary. Mother used all of the insurance money she got when Daddy died to get me here. I won’t have another chance.”
“I see,” said Stella. “And where would you like to work once you’re through with Katie Gibbs, Little Miss Serious?”
Darby smiled. “Funny, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” The din was nice; it offered them a cocoon of privacy.
“Well, I think you should aim high. You could be the secretary to a top businessman, to someone who runs a publishing house or a fashion line. Someone who’ll appreciate a girl who has a way with words.”
“That sounds like a dream. But we don’t have any such people in Defiance.”
“So don’t go back to Ohio at all, then. You can stay here in New York City.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that.”
“But why not?”
Darby wouldn’t dare explain why. That she’d miss her dogs too much, and Mother would be left alone with Mr. Saunders and his moods and temper.
“Did you hear what happened last year?” Candy addressed the entire table, cutting into Darby and Stella’s conversation.
“No, what?” asked Stella, turning away from Darby.
“I heard one of the girls jumped to her death from the fourteenth floor.”
“Hush, Candy. That’s just a rumor and you know it.”
“No, it’s true.” Candy stared right at Darby. “One of the doormen told me all about it. Said they covered it up so the papers wouldn’t find out, just shoveled up the body and sent it home to wherever she was from.”
“Awful!” The girls’ protests rang out.
“We’re not supposed to know. And apparently another girl used a gun to shoot herself in the head in her room several years ago. Her ghost still walks the halls, half of her head gone.”
Stella pushed away her plate. “Lord, Candy. I’m still eating. You could at least wait until bedtime for such gruesome stories.”
“She wasn’t a guest editor or a model, I know that much. Probably a Katie Gibbs girl. You better watch out, Darby.”
The room began to spin.
“You don’t look very well,” said Stella.
“I’m fine.” Darby wiped her mouth with her napkin and offered up a weak smile.
“You know, I have a powder that would be perfect for the shine on your nose.” Stella again, saving the day. Bored with the line of conversation, the other girls turned away. “I’ll give it to you when we go back to our rooms. Would you like that?”
“I would like that very much. Thank you.” Embarrassed, Darby patted at her cheeks with her napkin, hoping to tone down the oily sheen that had haunted her since she was fourteen. She was way out of her league with these girls: ugly, uninformed, and dull-witted. How many dinners would she have to sit through before she could return to Defiance? September through June, ten months, seven dinners a week, four weeks a month: two hundred and eighty, minus some for the holiday vacations.
Back in her room, Darby threw herself facedown on her bed and silently wept into her pillow. She had just wound down when a knock sounded on her door.
“Darby, I brought your powder. Pond’s Angel Face; it’s to die for.” Stella stepped in and closed the door behind her. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
Darby sat up and wiped her eyes. “I want to go home, Stella. I don’t want to be here.”
Stella joined her on the bed and put her arm around her. She smelled of vanilla, and Darby couldn’t help but lay her head on her shoulder. Stella didn’t flinch, as she might have, and this small kindness almost set off another round of tears.
“There, there.” Stella