Carnival music? The boardwalk? The thought seemed to wander around her brain, bringing with it a dusty scent like dried roses. Her nose wrinkled. Eden opened her eyes just before a sneeze slammed them shut again. The smell was real.
“What the hell?” She fumbled in the dim light, her fingers clawing up the base of a lamp, clicking it on. The brightness made her wince. “Hello?” she called, forcing her eyes open. A glance was enough to tell her the room was empty. She wasn’t in her bed, not in the hotel; the room wasn’t one she recognized.
Somewhere in another part of the house, voices drifted, strange music, the sounds of a party.
The room wasn’t large, only the bed and a dresser. A mirror above it. She caught her reflection. Even the dark circles under her eyes were puffy, eyelids an angry swollen pink from crying. Az’s face crashed through her thoughts, the desperation on it as he fell. She closed her eyes, but the image only intensified.
Her chest tightened. Everything inside her felt ripped out, raw. She tried to remember. Az. The hotel. She’d been on the beach, standing on the shore. Endless water. She forced her eyes open and threw off the covers. The air hit her clothes, the damp fabric already taking on a chill. Her hair hung in nearly dried clumps.
“Gabe?” No one answered. She dropped her bare feet to the floor, scanned for her shoes. On the back of the closet door hung a ball gown, the black fabric standing out several feet. Her own shoes were nowhere, but tucked against the wall beside the dress rested a pair of black heels. An envelope rested carefully across the ankle straps. Eden crossed the room.
Inside was a note, the words written in delicate calligraphy.
Please join the festivities at your earliest convenience. Proper dress has been provided convenience. Proper dress has been provided.
It was unsigned.
The handwriting wasn’t Gabe’s, but he had to be downstairs. Eden stared down at the shoes. They seemed to be her size, or at least close. She eyed the dress wearily. Why did he bring me here? she wondered. Maybe it was a memorial. He must have thought I’d want to come. Being around people was the last thing she wanted. She’d find him and force him to take her back to the hotel. She couldn’t deal with going home.
Eden’s feet slid perfectly into the shoes. Even with her own clothes damp and cold, she wasn’t about to throw on the dress.
She ran her fingers through the tangles in her hair, suddenly overeager to be downstairs, to find Gabe.
When she opened the door, the hallway beyond was dark, just enough light to find her way down it, the sweet serenade drawing her on.
It was an old house; she could tell by the pinched walls, the way they seemed to close her in. Ahead, a swath of light cut around a corner. She drew her shoulders up, quickening her step.
The banister began long before the slow wind of the staircase. Through the spindles, she could see a sea of black tuxedos, coattails twirling when the music demanded. Dozens of guys danced in a pattern straight out of seventeenth-century France. They ducked suddenly, hands clapping out a rhythm.
The room below seemed to take up half of the first floor. It looked like something out of a sideshow where a person paid a nickel to see dead babies in jars. Sure enough, surrounded by candles housed in blackened goblets, there was a jar on the mantle. A sunken lump of black rested at the bottom. Eden forced her eyes away.
The music swelled and she made out a swirl of color, then another. Gowns twirled through tunnels made of human arms. The song ended in the long draw of a bow against strings, holding the note until the dancers bowed and dispersed.
Idle chatter drowned out the final strains of the music as everyone made their way to folding chairs set up against the walls. Hundreds of candles dripped lazily onto whatever surface they had been placed on, complementing the soft light from a chandelier. One of the rare girls mingled, spending a few seconds with each group before making her way to the next, her crimson dress like a beacon in the crowd of black suits.
Eden watched, enraptured, until she managed to pull her eyes away, searching the crowd for Gabe. There were too many guys to find him, the masses blending together. She had no choice