Her lips parted.
“Shit, Lottie. I’m sorry—”
She put up a hand, her throat bobbing with tears, before spinning into her sheets and covering her face in the comforter.
I watched her a moment, then shut the door behind me.
STORY
My eggshell dress felt wrong, the morning late December light too sweet. Josephine wasn’t even twenty-four hours dead and paparazzi and glitterati had once again descended on Crowne Hall. It was almost as if everyone was celebrating the fact.
Everyone would soon forget Story Hale…
I determined to remember Josephine.
We hadn’t really discussed what this truce meant for all of us. For now, I guess it meant I am a voyeur. I watched West talk to men I don’t know. I watched Grayson, first taking photos with Lottie, and now with his mother. She
said something to him that made him frown and I wanted to know what.
I tried not to spiral into fear, surrounded by monsters who knew my secrets.
“Grayson hasn’t said anything to me about…you know…” I startled at Lottie’s voice. She sidled up next to me, her palm resting on her rounded stomach. “I know you don’t owe me anything. So, thank you.”
I wanted to ask how she was doing, but I couldn’t. So I stood next to her in silence, as a party for her and Grayson’s upcoming child carried on around us.
“Women in my station don’t kill ourselves. We have tragic accidents or weak hearts. My grandmother had a weak heart…my aunt had a tragic accident…” She sighed.
I knew I shouldn’t say anything. Lottie was one of the last people I should keep risking my neck around, but she looked and sounded broken. She’d completely given up the pretense of fake smiling.
“Do you know the size of your baby?” I asked.
While I like to think of my baby as a little lemon, it’s probably the size of an avocado. Which means Lottie’s is probably the same, too.
She arched a brow. “You’re not supposed to talk unless I give you permission.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
She shook her head, looking so small and childlike with her big, brown eyes.
“It’s probably the size of an avocado,” I said.
She tapped her fingers on her stomach, pensive. “My mother hates avocados.”
Her eyes traveled across the room, where Lynette was in an avid conversation. Lynette, who had apparently tried to trip me. Tried to kill my little lemon.
They all knew my secrets.
All of them.
I glanced at Lottie.
She’s probably the only one who doesn’t know at this point.
West was across the hall, talking to someone whose combover looked blown over.
“He didn’t used to be this way…my brother.” Lottie was watching me, followed my gaze to West. “He used to be my nice, protective older brother. One time, some boys were picking on me at a party and he tracked them all down and made them apologize.” She sighed wistfully. “Something happened when he was a teenager. We were visiting Crowne Hall and he was so happy, and then he came back and he was different. Changed. Like my father.”
She shook her head. “Maybe we’re all part of a compass, destined to be together and at odds.”