Page 7 of Mercy & Malice

4

BROOKE

My eyelids feel heavy as I rub them before opening my eyes. It takes a few seconds to adjust before I realize Mr. Sullivan is sitting in the chair across the room. He’s focused on his phone, a mug in his hand as he raises it to his lips to take a drink before he looks to me.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, Brooke.” His eyes are already back to his phone screen.

“It’s okay.” I glance at mine to see it’s just a few minutes after six. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be home this early. Mrs. Sullivan said she’d be back this evening, but I was going to stay until ten, so Aurora wasn’t home alone all day.”

“My meetings canceled. You can sleep in a while longer or head out early. I know the winter masquerade is tonight, so you probably have a busy day ahead. I’ll still pay you for the additional hours.”

“Oh no. That’s not necessary. But yes sir, I do have a lot to do today.” Nothing that can’t wait until after ten since I thought I’d be here, but still.

I’ve just begun folding the blankets when Mr. Sullivan says, “Just leave it, Brooke,” and waves the hand holding his phone.

“It’s no trouble.” I fold the linens and straighten up the Christmas throw pillows (the only sign of Christmas in the house) then return them to the correct closet.

When I get back, Mr. Sullivan sets his coffee on the side table before he stands. “Cash or Venmo?”

“Whichever is easier,” I answer as he grabs his wallet and passes me a few bills. It’s too much, but I know I’ll lose the argument if I try and tell him he’s overpaid me, just like what happened last night with Cain.

I tell him thanks then hurry out to my car. Aurora will still be sleeping since she more than likely stayed up all night reading. I probably should’ve gotten a few more hours of sleep. Maybe I still can, but I’d rather not go back to the house. Since I’m getting dressed at Ivy’s, I message to see if she’s awake. When she responds, I’m a little too thankful that I don’t have to go home.

While I didn’t get to catch up on rest, the day was naturally energizing. It’s only now that I step in front of the mirror, admiring my dress, that reality starts to reemerge. Belgrave tradition stipulates that seniors wear white to the masquerade. And my white A-line gown with gold embellishments is absolutely perfect. Every other year, I was required to wear a dress in a shade of Belgrave blue. I love the gown I’m wearing, but all I see is the symbolism of an era coming to an end. And while I’m ready to leave Belgrave, the unknown future feels overwhelming. I’m standing here in a gown that I didn’t even pay for. “Thank you so much. It’s exquisite. I shouldn’t have accepted this.”

“Yes. You should’ve,” Ivy says as she inspects her dress.

When we went shopping together, she moaned and groaned and only agreed to attend the event if I’d let her buy both our dresses.

“Last touch.” I lift the diamond and pearl mask over my eyes as I fasten the cold metal against my skin. Instinctively, I touch just under my eye as a vision of the hooded cloaks that the Keepers wore during Mercy impedes my mind. Never knowing who was behind the mask was so unnerving. I was lying to everyone around me and playing a game with an inside advantage while deceiving everyone I cared about.

I snatch the mask off, setting it down on the bed before I tug at the ribbing of my dress just under my arms as I try to take in a deep breath to center myself. I can’t seem to inhale enough air to fully inflate my lungs.

“Brooke, what’s wrong?” Ivy shifts in front of me as I take in a few short spurts of oxygen.

“The dress is a little tight.” It’s not a lie, but that’s not what is squeezing my insides, clutching at my chest, and tightening my windpipe. “And I keep feeling like there’s something I forgot to do. But there’s not. The DJ is there. The decorations are done. The refreshments are ready to go. We took care of everything, and Belgrave’s winter masquerade is going to be perfect.”

By her concerned face, she knows something is off. But she doesn’t push and just says, “Exactly.”

But we both know it’s a lie. It can’t be perfect when someone is still missing.

The doorbell sounds as I cringe. I already know who it is. My mom insisted on coming over to take photos beforehand, and what choice did Ivy have but to agree we could take them at her house.

Ivy clasps my hand in hers and gives me a warm smile. “I’ll head downstairs and stall. Take as much time as you need.”

“No, that’s okay.” I plaster the biggest smile possible on my face as I put the mask back on, though I avoid peeking at the mirror again before heading out of the bedroom. When I reach the landing, I spot Mom and Mr. Montclair. I hadn’t expected him to show for a Kodak moment even if one of his sons is here. It’s not like he and Luca can stand to be in the same room with each other.

His eyes are the first to meet mine as I head down the stairs. “You look beautiful, Brooke.”

My feet are on the ground before I respond, “Thanks,” and move next to Cain, who isn’t a fan of Mr. Montclair either. He places a steadying hand on my back and says, “You do look incredible.”

Mr. Montclair holds his hands out, waving over Cain and me. “You two are a picture-perfect couple.”

I take that as a dig because he knows I’d rather be standing here with his son and that Cain and I are just friends. And it makes me feel bad for Cain. But he is well aware of the situation and what an ass the guy is.

I’m not sure what my mother sees in him, but she’s on the same page when she adds, “You two do look amazing together.” Then she points her phone in our direction as it clicks a few times.

My mom waves Ivy and Luca over. “All together now.”