Chương 4
Richard moved first.
Victoria stepped in front of him.
He stopped.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Victoria.”
“Why?”
“That material concerns you.”
“And?”
“It should not be left unattended.”
“It’s been unattended for ten minutes.”
Richard glanced toward the ballroom doors.
Victoria understood before he did anything.
“Ethan,” she said, “go get it.”
Ethan ran.
Not elegantly.
Not like a man in control.
He ran back into his wedding reception while guests pretended not to stare.
Richard looked at Victoria.
“You are making decisions while distressed.”
She almost smiled.
“There’s the sentence.”
“What sentence?”
“The one where you tell me my reaction disqualifies me from understanding what happened to me.”
His eyes cooled.
Madeline looked at Victoria.
Something passed between them that had not existed in the ballroom.
Recognition.
Ethan returned less than a minute later.
Empty-handed.
“It’s gone.”
Madeline shut her eyes.
Richard sighed.
“How unfortunate.”
Ethan stared at him.
Richard met his gaze without concern.
The hotel corridor suddenly smelled too strongly of hydrangeas.
Victoria felt sick.
“Who took it?” Ethan asked.
“No idea.”
“There were two hundred people in there.”
“Yes.”
“Your security team is everywhere.”
Richard looked mildly offended. “Would you prefer I search wedding guests?”
Ethan stepped closer.
“I’d prefer you stop enjoying this.”
Richard’s face changed.
Not much.
Enough.
Victoria put a hand between them.
“Everybody goes home.”
“Victoria,” Ethan said.
“I mean it.”
Madeline looked toward the ballroom. “I don’t have a home tonight.”
Ethan went still.
She glanced at him.
“What? You want to go upstairs and pretend we’re newlyweds?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He looked away.
Madeline laughed softly and wiped at one eye with the heel of her hand before any tear could fall.
“Great wedding.”
No one answered.
Victoria removed her shoes.
Three people stared at her.
“My feet hurt.”
She picked the shoes up by their straps.
It was such a normal complaint that Madeline made an unexpected sound between a laugh and a sob.
Victoria looked at her.
Madeline covered her mouth.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
That, Victoria believed.
She walked toward the elevators barefoot.
Richard followed.
She turned.
“No.”
“I’m taking you home.”
“I have a car.”
“Your driver works for me.”
“I’ll get a cab.”
“At this hour?”
“It’s Manhattan.”
He looked annoyed that the city had undermined him.
Victoria pressed the elevator button.
“Do not come with me.”
Her father lowered his voice.
“You don’t know what Madeline has done.”
Victoria looked at him.
“I know what you just did.”
The elevator opened.
She entered alone.
The doors closed on Richard Hale’s face.
Only after they met did Victoria realize she was still holding the hospital wristband.
She sat on the floor before the elevator reached the tenth story.
By twenty-two, she was crying.
Silently.
She hated crying in elevators. There were cameras.
She wiped her face and stood before the doors opened in the lobby.
Outside, the night was humid. A line of black cars waited beneath the hotel awning, most of them hired for wedding guests. Victoria walked past all of them.
She ordered a ride from the corner.
The driver arrived in a dented Honda and asked whether she was coming from a costume party.
Victoria looked down at the emerald gown.
“A wedding.”
“Good one?”
“No.”
He nodded as though this answer confirmed something he had long suspected about weddings.
Then he turned the radio down without being asked.
Victoria liked him for that.
At home, she could not reach the safety pin.
She stood in her bathroom twisting painfully in front of the mirror until she gave up and cut the strap with manicure scissors.
The gown slid to the floor.
She looked at her back.
The dressing had bled through.
Not much.
Enough.
She cleaned it the way the wound-care nurse had taught her, taped a fresh dressing into place, and put on a T-shirt three sizes too large.
At 1:08 a.m., someone knocked.
Victoria checked the door camera.
Madeline.
Still wearing the wedding gown.
Victoria stared at the screen.
Madeline knocked again.
“I know you’re awake.”
Victoria said through the door, “Go away.”
“I don’t have my phone.”
“Not my problem.”
“I don’t have my purse.”
“Also not my problem.”
“My hotel room is booked under Ethan’s card.”
“That sounds extremely fixable.”
Madeline leaned her forehead against the door.
On the camera, the diamonds in her earrings looked absurdly bright.
“Richard’s people are downstairs.”
Victoria stopped.
“What?”
“Two men from his security team.”
“How do you know?”
“They followed the car.”
“What car?”
“Your aunt’s.”
“She drove you here?”
“She said nobody should spend their wedding night arguing in a hotel hallway.”
Despite herself, Victoria almost smiled.
That sounded like Aunt Ruth.
“Why are Richard’s people following you?”
“I think he wants to know whether I still have another copy.”
“Do you?”
Madeline looked directly into the camera.
“Yes.”
Victoria opened the door.
Madeline entered quickly.
Victoria locked it.
For several seconds they stood in the entryway staring at each other.
Madeline’s makeup was smudged beneath one eye. Her satin gown was dirty along the hem. The scratches near her temple, carefully concealed during the ceremony, had become visible where her foundation had worn away.
Victoria pointed at them.
“Those are from that night.”
Madeline touched her cheek.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“You.”
Victoria froze.
Madeline added quickly, “Not deliberately.”
“What did I do?”
“You woke up in the car.”
A fragment came back.
Dark upholstery.
Her own breath.
A woman saying, Please stop moving.
“I thought you were him,” Victoria said.
Madeline’s face tightened.
“You kept trying to get out. I reached across you. You scratched me.”
“Him who?”
Madeline looked away.
Victoria’s heartbeat changed.
“Him who?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie.”
“I don’t know what you remember.”
“I asked what you know.”
Madeline walked farther into the apartment.
“Can I sit down?”
“No.”
She stopped.
May you like
Victoria folded her arms.
“Eleven weeks ago I woke up in a hospital with thirteen stitches, a separated shoulder, bruised ribs, and no clear memory of almost two hours of my life. You told me you found me in a parking garage. My father appeared before sunrise. He said I fell down a service staircase after drinking.”
