“Everything is an opportunity to tell a story,” Sebastian muttered.
Before I could ask what he meant, the door opened, and we climbed out to an explosion of bright lights and loud popping sounds as paparazzi took our photos.
“Sebastian! Over here!”
“Evie! Who are you wearing!”
Sebastian took my waist and escorted me up the stairs and down the red carpet, pausing when appropriate. We went inside as quickly as possible. The room was decorated in pink and deep red. Circular tables with pink tablecloths and red roses filled the room, seating eight people at each. Lining the walls were large banners of my mother and other famous women I didn’t recognize. We sat at the table with our names on place cards in the middle of the room and made small talk as the rest of the guests filed in.
“You’re our guest of honor, Ms. Reyes,” the hostess told us as we sat down and quickly poured water and wine.
I opened my mouth to ask what she meant by that, but Sebastian spoke, distracting me.
“Watch the cameras,” Sebastian whispered. His lips brushed against my ear, sending shivers down to my collarbone. “There’s one right there and one to your left.” He pointed discreetly.
I turned my head as subtly as I could to see. In the corners, cameramen stood with large video cameras, their red lights on.
“Is this live?” I asked.
Sebastian reached for his drink and nodded. He was staying silent on purpose. Why? He knew something I didn’t. Then, I watched Arthur come in, shaking hands and greeting people as he did so.
My blood boiled instantly.
“Easy, Final Girl,” Sebastian muttered a low warning.
“I—”
“Beep beep, Ritchie,” he said in a sharper tone.
My mouth snapped shut. I forced a smile and scanned the room as everyone settled into their seats and dinner was served. While we ate, there were various music acts on stage, and in-between, Arthur hosted. Putting on a charming face, he talked about We Become Roses and what good it had done over the past ten years. He introduced speakers, asked for donations, and presented other non-musical acts. After we finished eating, there was a small intermission, during which I sat solemnly with Sebastian.
Guests came to our table to talk, but we kept the conversations brief and polite, and they got the hint. When the short break was over and the cameras began filming again, Arthur decided it was time to highlight my appearance.
“We have a very special guest here tonight. Lita Reyes left behind a legacy through her movies and WBR, but she also left behind loved ones, and we have one special family member of hers with us tonight. Evelyn Reyes, her daughter.”
Applause erupted as the audience and cameras turned toward me. My face flamed, and I waved politely at the cameras. They shifted to the front of the room just as a woman, dressed in a volunteer uniform, walked from behind the curtains, bringing Arthur a gold and pink plaque.
“We at We Become Roses wanted to honor Lita Reyes with an award tonight. Lita gave so much back to the Latine community without asking anything in return. Her kindness has helped countless women take back their freedom, while also educating the community about sexual violence in an effort to save others. The world is a better place because of Lita Reyes, and Evie, we’d like you to accept this glass rose on her behalf.”
I stared at Arthur, frozen until Sebastian pinched me on the thigh. My mind came to, and I stood, confused as to what was going on. I made my way to the stage, the room around me one big blur. I took the rose statue from Arthur and stared blankly at the audience, still clapping. Arthur’s hand went to the small of my back and urged me toward the microphone. I flinched away from his touch and leaned into the mic.
“Wow, this is…great, really great,” I started, my mind drawing a blank. They’d asked me to prepare a speech, but I’d declined. I should have known this was why. I raised the statue. “My mom always loved roses. This is going to go great on her awards shelf.”
There was polite laughter, which gave me a little strength. I stood up straight and cleared my throat.
“Helping Latine women who have been victims of sexual assault was important to my mother, as she knew all too well what it was like. Since she’s been gone, she’s helped a lot of people, and with her money, name, and help from everyone in this room, she’ll continue to do so. Thank you all for taking care of my mother’s legacy while I was gone. I hope to play a bigger part now that I’ve returned.”
I stepped away from the mic as a standing ovation followed by music played me off. What was I saying? Play a bigger part? Why was I making promises I never intended to keep? I was directed backstage, and the moment I was hidden behind the curtains, I was yanked into a dark corner.
“You better fucking watch yourself, bitch.” I couldn’t see him, but the voice I’d been listening to all night was instantly recognizable. Arthur squeezed my upper arms.
I let out a sharp cry as I tried wrenching my arm free of his grasp.
“You’re trying to play games with players much more advanced. You’re as good as dead already.”
Suddenly, he let me go, and an instant later, a sharp pinch in my belly turned into a white- hot pain. Or was it cold? I couldn’t tell, but I knew what had caused it. I gasped as Arthur pulled the knife from my belly and disappeared into the curtains, fleeing. I dropped against the wall, holding on to my wound.
Fuck.
