Fiancé? Whether it matters now or not, my muscles tense. I have to fight the urge to look at Elias, even though I feel him watching my reaction. I’m a little angry that he didn’t tell me sooner. Then again, he didn’t tell me a lot of things. This is probably the least important.
“No need for jealously, Audrey,” Catherine calls out, confirming that I’m easy to read. “Elias never loved me, and I grew restless and bored of him. I slipped away for a drink and a distraction.”
“That would be me,” Joshua explains. “The distraction.”
Catherine groans, and snaps that it was only one time. Besides, her mother wouldn’t have allowed her to ride in the same car as him, let alone marry him. He tells her that if she had been engaged to him, they wouldn’t have been at such a miserable party to begin with. While they argue, I steal a glance at Elias. He’s emotionless, like he’s listened to this play out a million times. His eyes lift to mine, apologetic. Catherine and Joshua go on fighting, but for a moment it’s just me and Elias.
“Enough,” Catherine says to Joshua, holding up her hand. “Now”—she turns back to me—“where was I?”
“Our one time,” Joshua replies drily.
“Anyway,” she continues. “After my indiscretion I returned to the party and made my way over to Eli. If I had known for even a second that Kenneth was a tyrant, capable of monstrosities beyond understanding, I would have left that very second. Instead Eli and I posed for a photograph for the local paper. An article about our wedding would be featured. And then . . .” Her voice quivers, and she stops, pressing her lips together. Joshua turns to her, a pained expression crossing his face. Obviously, he forgives her for being a constant bitch.
“When I arrived in the ballroom,” Joshua says, picking up the story, “I closed the doors behind me and joined Lourdes at the bar. She was crying, dark purple bruises imprinted in the shape of a hand on her forearm. I knew who had done it, of course. But I wasn’t in the position to stop Kenneth from abusing her. We would both be out of a job. We’d starve.
“I helped Lourdes with the drinks, making sure she didn’t mess up, especially when I saw Kenneth watching us, waiting for an opportunity. Understand, Audrey,” Joshua says, “the Ruby didn’t make Kenneth a terrible man—he already was. We were scared of him then, and we’re terrified of him now.”
Kenneth has been torturing them for years, making rules and punishing them at his discretion. Of all the horrible people to have power over you in death, for it to be the one who abused you in life must be unbearable. My sympathy for Lourdes is tremendous; I’m devastated on her behalf. She watches them talk, distraught, like she’s reliving the tragedy.
“It was a candle,” Catherine says. “There was the smash of a bottle breaking, and Eli and I both looked over to the bar. The housekeeper had dropped the scotch,” she says bitterly, and glares at Lourdes’s burned body. Catherine’s expression weakens, as if she thinks Lourde has suffered enough.
“The bottle slipped from Lourdes’s hand and smashed on the tiles,” Joshua continues, “startling the nearby guests. I didn’t have to check to know Kenneth would be on his way over. Lourdes fell to her knees and began sweeping up the glass with her hands, shredding her skin on the broken shards. Smearing blood in an attempt to clean before he arrived.
“That was when I saw Catherine and Eli standing together. Only now they weren’t so cozy. Eli was questioning her whereabouts, and Catherine lifted her chin, defiant, beautiful and ugly at the same time.
“The colors in the room,” Joshua says with a twisted sort of nostalgia, “they were so beautiful, so vibrant. I looked from face to face, people speaking and laughing, and then my eyes fell on Kenneth. His expression was tense with controlled anger; his fingers curled in impending punches as he stomped his way toward the bar. I could see the hint of satisfaction in his stride—he liked to hit women, especially Lourdes.”
He lifts his head. “Poor Lourdes,” he whispers sadly, “was cleaning frantically, thinking there was still a chance she could avoid the beating. I grabbed a rag to help her.”
He stops, working his jaw like he doesn’t want to continue. Lourdes lifts her hand to touch him, to forgive him. The emotions in the room are palpable, and when I look at Elias, he’s watching me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. My own tears well up in response, and I want the story to end a different way. I want them to survive.
“None of us meant to be here, Audrey,” Elias says solemnly. “None of us thought this was a possibility. When Joshua knocked over the candle, there was no slow motion; there were simply not flames and then flames. The alcohol blazed up in an instant. Before the first screams even reached our ears, the tapestries surrounding the doorway caught fire.
“Lourdes never made it off the floor,” he says. “Her suffering ended nearly as soon as it began. Joshua tried to put himself out, slapping his blackening hands on his clothes. But he only succeeded in spreading the flames. He threw himself against the closest person, screaming, his hair singed off. Soon the room was ablaze in bright orange fire. Around me, guests shrieked and ran for the door, but their clothing wasn’t optimum for escape. An older woman was the first to fall, and she began a chain reaction. People crawled over each other, but the wooden doors were completely lost behind the flames.”
I cover my mouth, overcome. I can picture it all; smell the fire, the burned flesh. I can imagine all the horror of that night.
“I grabbed Catherine and searched for another way out,” Elias continues. “I looked up and down that grand room, but there were no windows, no other doors. Catherine gripped my arm tightly, but she didn’t cry.” Elias’s expression softens, and Catherine’s lips spread into a watery smile. “She was more determined to live than anyone else in there. Even in that chaos her eyes reflected fire, but it was all her own.”
“The walls around us burned,” she says mournfully, “surrounding us like an embrace. I squeezed him tighter as the realization settled in—there would be no saving us. Not any of us.”
Elias puts his fist to his lips, quiet for a moment before going on. “The room became unbearably hot,” he says. “I coughed on the last of the air, knowing we’d be dead soon. I took my arm from Catherine and started toward a table. I pulled off the white linen, sending the plates and silverware crashing to the floor. I grabbed Catherine and wrapped the tablecloth around us, hoping to save our skin from the bite of the fire. It wouldn’t, of course. In just a moment we had both fallen to our knees, and when I looked over, Catherine’s skin was smeared with ash. Blisters formed on one of her perfect cheeks.”
“Please, Eli,” Catherine says, starting to cry. “No more. I can’t hear any more.”
Elias turns from her, settling his gaze on me. “It had been less than five minutes since the fire started,” he says, ignoring Catherine’s plea. “The screams were dying out. In the distance was the crackling of burning wood, the whoosh of fabric catching fire, the burst of bottles exploding. The banging—if it was ever there—had stopped. We didn’t know then, but they locked the doors in order to keep the fire from spreading through the entire hotel. I fell forward when the air was too thin to breathe, and I saw Catherine, her cheek pressed to the tile as she lay staring at me, motionless. Dead.”
He swallows hard, and when he levels his stare at me again, my heart breaks. “The heat licked at my shoes,” he says, “but I didn’t feel the fire take my skin. I didn’t feel anything until I woke up in the ballroom after it was rebuilt in all its glory. Trapped with everyone else. Forever.”
Chapter 19
We all sit silently for a moment, Catherine crying quietly, exposed. I can hear Lourdes’s ragged breaths getting stronger and more measured. The entirety of their story is catastrophic, devastating.
“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” I say, knowing it’s not enough. “I can’t imagine . . . I . . .” My voice startles Catherine, and she wipes away the tears on her cheeks, embarrassed by her emotional vulnerability. She takes out
her compact and checks her reflection, sniffling hard. She snaps it shut, the click echoing in the room.
“Eli,” she says coolly. “We have to get to the ballroom. We can’t risk it now. Kenneth will be on a rampage.”
Elias isn’t convinced. “Go without me,” he tells her. “First I have to convince Audrey what a terrible idea it is to attend the party. Even if she does look smashing in that dress.” His compliment is tinged with the tone of an impending argument.
“Get to the party, Elias,” Lourdes says in a low voice. She groans, shifting on the bed. Joshua climbs to his feet to check on her, and Tanya sets the washcloth aside, but Lourdes shakes her head, letting them know she doesn’t need their help. I notice her fingers have grown back. “You too, Joshua,” she adds. “You’re bartending tonight.”
“Thank you,” Catherine announces, as if the command was made on her behalf. She walks to the door and pulls it open, then turns to me. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Audrey,” she says, smiling softly. “But I really hope I never see you again.”
I cough out a laugh, and nod. “I hope I never see you again either.” Catherine reaches her hand to Joshua, and after a concerned look in Lourdes’s direction, he takes it and they walk out together.
Elias waits near the end of the bed, his hands in his pockets, his jaw set hard. “Lourdes,” Elias starts, “she has to—”
“Yes, Eli,” she says. “I understand the stakes just as well as you do. If not more.”
“Oh, good,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “Maybe someone can fill me in.” I hate being talked about as if I’m not here. Neither of them reacts to me, caught instead in a stare-down. Finally Elias relents.
“Audrey,” Elias says, slow to look at me. When he does, color blooms on his cheeks, a sad smile deepens his dimples. “Damn.” He shakes his head. “I told you I wouldn’t want you to leave if we kept at it.”
“You were too charming,” I respond, making him laugh. I’ll miss the sound of it. It occurs to me that I love him—even if it’s still new. Still soon. This is the start of love, and not the circumstantial kind that fades, like with Ryan. In this there is acceptance and understanding. Lust and admiration. I’ve always hated good-byes, and this is no exception.
“I’ll see you around,” I say casually, even though my voice quivers. Elias puts his hand over his heart, like I’m breaking it.
“I look forward to it, Audrey Casella.” He flashes me one more dimpled smile, and then he turns and leaves, off to play his role in a haunting.
I lean back in the chair, doing my best not to cry. Tanya helps prop Lourdes up on a pillow, and then she crosses to the other side of the room and pours herself a glass of water. I’m running out of time. I need to get Daniel and my father from the party—but now that I’ve seen what Kenneth can do, I’m not sure how I can get past him.
“Before you try to talk me out of going to the party,” I say, “there’s still a lot I don’t understand. How am I here? I wasn’t in that fire.”
“The Ruby is filled with ghosts,” Tanya answers. “Not all from the fire. Heart attacks, suicides—most died right here. And some were killed off-site.” She motions to where I saw the blood on her shirt. “Hiking.”
Tanya sips from her water, rattled by the mention of her own death. “From what we can tell,” she continues after a moment, “only the really lost souls find their way here. The ones who are already dead but don’t realize it.”
Lourdes groans gently from the bed, trying to adjust her position on the pillow. Tanya sets her glass down on the dresser and walks over, sitting on the edge and grabbing the washcloth and ointment.
“It helps with the pain,” she whispers when Lourdes tries to brush her hand away.
“I don’t care about the pain,” Lourdes snaps. The two exchange a long glance, and then Tanya flops down in the chair next to me, putting her feet up on the bed. She shrugs one shoulder, telling Lourdes to do what she wants. Their tension isn’t hostile, more like sisters fighting.
“This isn’t just about the party, Audrey,” Lourdes says, slowly sounding more like herself. “You have to leave tonight, now. I promised your brother.”
“My brother? What does . . . what do you mean?” I ask, starting to feel frantic. “How much of this does Daniel know?”
“All of it. He came to see me earlier, before this.” She gestures to her body. “He was afraid you’d stay once you realized what was really going on.”
I’m taken aback, furious that Daniel knew about the Ruby and didn’t tell me. Heartbroken that he tried to deal with it on his own. “Neither of us is staying,” I say. “I would never leave him here. That’s why I came back, to take him with me. Him and my father.” Lourdes exhales, forlorn.
“What?” I ask. “They won’t kick me out of the party this time. I have an invitation.”
“Shit,” Tanya mutters. My stomach sinks, slow dread creeping up my arms.
“What does it mean?” I ask nervously. “Why did I get an invitation? Why now?”
They’re both quiet until Lourdes turns to face me. “Because you’re dying, Audrey,” she says simply. “Your body is dying, and if you die here, you stay here forever. You’ll be trapped in the Ruby with us. The invitation is symbolic. It’s letting go.”
I’m horrorstruck. Even though I already knew my condition was perilous on the side of the road, did I really think I was going to die? Would I have come back if I did? Wait. That means . . .
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Oh my God. My brother, my father—they’ve gone to the party. They’ve used . . .” I jump up from the chair, sending it sideways to the floor. My heart shatters, and a tidal wave of grief crashes over my head and drowns me. “They can’t leave,” I whisper. “That’s what Daniel didn’t want me to know. He knew I wouldn’t abandon him.”
It’s hard to breathe. I can’t breathe. Trampling past the overturned chair, I rush out the door into the hallway. I double over, gagging on my tears. With my hand on the wall, heavy sobs wrack my body and I fall to my knees on the carpet.
My brother’s dead and I can’t save him. They’re all gone, but I can still live. But how will I survive surviving this? How will Daniel cope when I’m gone? He’s dead on the side of that road.
“I’m sorry you ended up here,” Tanya says. I lift my head and find her squatting down next to me. Her dark eyes are full of compassion, sympathy. “But you haven’t gone to the party,” she says. She motions to where I dropped the envelope when I first saw Lourdes’s burned body. “You haven’t used your invitation, Audrey. There’s still time for you to go home.” She must understand what I’m feeling—she’s not from the hotel either.
“I can just go back to the thirteenth floor and wake up?” I ask her. She nods. “But I’ll be leaving my brother, my father, Elias, and all of my friends behind to suffer in the Ruby under Kenneth’s charge. How could I live knowing that?”
Tanya drops to sit on the carpet and shakes her head. “I was like you,” she says thoughtfully. “When I first came to the Ruby, I was on the thirteenth floor for a time, both me and my sister.”
I sniffle back the rest of my tears and turn to her. “Your sister is here?”
“Not anymore.” She looks at the floor, tracing her finger over a pattern in the carpet. “Corey left, hated it here. Lourdes told us what was happening, and Corey—she came unhinged, broke things. Scared a bunch of the others, so much so a news van showed up a few weeks later to do a story. Lourdes got sent away for that—burned first, just like today. She was gone until you came. She’s part of the hotel, and the Ruby expects her to welcome new guests. Even Kenneth can’t control that.”
“What about you?” I ask, starting to regain my focus. “Why are you here, then, if you knew?”
“Because it was too late for me,” she says. “I’d already gone to the party, wanted to wear a beautiful dress. Be somebody. I thought, life’s a bitch and then you don’t die. You stay forever in a hotel with a bunch o
f other ghosts, passing time, going to parties, kissing in hallways.” She smirks at me. “But my sister left me here. And once Lourdes was sent away, I became part of the staff in her place. Just as well. The party really wasn’t worth it.”
“Do you hate your sister?” I ask. “Do you hate her for leaving you?”
Tanya tilts her head, thinking it over. “At first. But I wanted her to go, to live her life. It wouldn’t be fair to want otherwise.” Tanya surprises me when she reaches over to brush my hair behind my ear, a movement so motherly it nearly sends me crying again. “Daniel will understand if you leave,” she says. “He’ll also understand if you don’t.”
Tanya exhales, leaning her head against the wall. “Your brother’s going to be just fine here,” she says. “It’s Elias I feel sorry for. All the years I’ve watched him hate those parties. Always so sad and alone. The staffers say he’s been involved with girls other than Catherine, especially the few who’ve passed through the thirteenth floor.” She shrugs. “But from what I’ve heard, he never wanted any of them to stay. Who knows—maybe he only picks the girls who are going to leave. Or maybe”—she smiles—“he didn’t care because they weren’t you. All this time, Elias was waiting for you. He doesn’t want you to go, Audrey. He told us so.”
“I can’t stay,” I tell her. “He knows that.”
“Which is why he would never let you,” she says sympathetically. “I just wanted you to know you had a choice. The Ruby’s giving you a choice.” She touches my shoulder and then stands up. She holds out her hand, and as I get up, I’m reminded that I’m still in a gown and heels. Still dressed for a party, the black invitation on the floor in front of me.
It’s impossible to digest all I’ve learned. All that’s happened. But I have to see Daniel and my father again—I have to say good-bye. When I imagine it, my heart breaks. How can I not try to save them? I have to at least try.
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