Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
My thoughts twisted and spun as we passed the officer guarding the entrance to the east wing. What’s the right way to get close to someone when you’re pretending to be someone else?
I took Ethics as an elective when I attended Titan Prep, but nothing we discussed in that class could’ve prepared me for this moral quandary.
As promised, a female officer arrived shortly after we reached my bedroom—along with Christie and Elin. I let them in and they changed me out of Sue’s over-the-top, show-off dress and into a sleek, black number wrapped in shimmering tulle.
Taking off the dress meant I also had to give up the tiara, choker, and diamond waterfall earrings. My time as a queen was over, but thankfully, Elin was there to restyle my hair into a classy bun with pearl clips to match my new pearl earrings and necklace. I still looked like a queen getting ready to grace my subjects, and for the first time since the accident, I felt a twinge of regret that Sue wasn’t here for this.
She organized this whole thing because she knew it would be their last night as a family. I mean, of course it was, because she told the guys they had to be packed up and out the door ten minutes after the party ended. Which kind of made the idea of a big, multimillion-dollar anniversary a bit psychotic, but for once, I don’t think it was about any of that. Sue must’ve just wanted one more night of being loved and adored before she tore her world apart, and weird as that was... it was also desperately sad.
Sue was sad, I thought, gazing at her and me in the mirror. Looking back, she was the saddest, loneliest person I’ve ever known.
“Mrs. Kim?” Christie tapped my shoulder. “Are you alright?”
I tried for a smile. “I’m fine. Just spacing out. All that fancy wine is going right to my head.”
“Then, some food in your belly is exactly what you need, and lucky us, it’s time for cake,” she cried, bouncing in her heels. “I know you wanted to wait until you cut into the cake to find out what it is, but I can’t wait another moment! It’s a crème brûlée cake with caramel custard and a rum-soaked graham cracker crust. Your whole life will change after the first bite!”
She expected enthusiasm, so I gave it to her—letting out a little squeal and dance that she returned tenfold.
I had to laugh. Some people search their whole lives, and other people discover their calling straight away. Christie Baudelaire was the latter. She was meant to be an event planner. Life was a nonstop fun-filled celebration for her, and to be a part of bringing that fun and joy to others was what she lived for.
“Let’s go eat this cake,” I cried.
“Yay!” Grabbing my hand, Christie ran off with me.
She threw open the door, letting Sanders in and leaving him, Davis, and Elin to handle returning the dress.
“Wait.” I pulled up short. “I should check on my mother while I’m up here. Her nurse only agreed to a night off by making us promise we’d take over the three-hour checks. Might as well do the first one now.”
“Absolutely,” she chirped, spinning us both around the other way. “I’ll come with you.”
Together we clomped down the hall, then rounded the corner to Omma’s room.
I frowned. “Her light’s on. Did we forget to turn it off when I said goodnight?”
“No,” she replied. “I remember Mr. Agassi turned off the light on his way out the door.”
“She must’ve woken up.” I picked up the pace, reaching for the doorknob. “I hope she hasn’t been up all this time, calling for someone and none of us—” I pushed inside.
Red.
Red everywhere. On the carpets. On the wall.
Is it paint? Who splashed paint everywhere? Omma will be so mad when she— Sense crowded in, smothering that mindless, chattering voice.
Not paint. Blood.
I stepped inside the room, my heels squiging on the blood-soaked carpet—and met my mother’s wide, unseeing eyes.
I was wrong about Christie only living to share in others’ joy. When she saw my mother’s body. She screamed just as loud as me.
Chapter Fourteen
“...no one leaves...”
“...separate rooms...”
Voices were going in and out. Sounds were going in and out. My breaths were going in, but barely out.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. But I could see... her face... the blood... clear as day... over and over again.
“...turn over all phones, cameras, and recording devices—”
“Come now, man,” Captain Roberts gruffed—popping the cone of silence that descended on me. “There are very important and influential people here. Celebrities! None of them walked up here and murdered some old woman in her bed!”
“Respectfully, sir, we cannot rule anyone out at this point. There is enough food and beds in this mansion that no one can claim cruel or unlawful treatment. On the contrary, I’m sure all of those important and influential celebrities would rather spend the night in a mansion than in our holding cells.”