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"Now, slowly, and above all, please, from the beginning. Which gala are you talking about?" he asked anxiously. His worried gaze that was now on me almost tore my heart apart. I already suspected he would insist on coming along, but that was impossible as long as his family had not received an invitation.That seemed to be the case, however, because one thing was clear: he didn't know what we were talking about.
Chris' eyes rested on me apologetically. To worry our friends and my fiancé had not been his intention.
"No problem," I returned his look. "But please, you tell them everything. I don't want to."
My brother nodded hesitantly and then walked thoughtfully back to the table. We followed him. Aspasia put a warm cup of tea in front of me shortly after. Soothingly, she stroked my back and settled on the chair beside me.
Chris began to tell the story. At first, his voice trembled, but he became firmer as the story progressed. Without even making eye contact with me, he told the others about the Brotherhood from London, the invitation to the gala, and the personal meeting with the young women my age.
When he finished, an oppressive silence fell over the group. Edward was distractedly nibbling at one of the leather book covers, Alex was staring into space like a beaten dog, and Aspasia took a deep breath.
Then she jumped up and started pacing up and down in front of the table.
"Okay, people, out of this melancholy! Get into the options! What are our options?" she shouted, upset. At that moment, I loved her for the optimism she radiated.
"When exactly is this gala?" asked Alex quietly.
"Tomorrow evening at eight o'clock," I answered and looked in his direction. Sighing, my best friend ran his fingers first over his face and then through his hair. Then he turned to me, took my hands, and stared at me piercingly.
"You're not going there," he determined firmly.
"What?" shouted Chris and I at the same time.
"Myrina will only make herself suspicious if she doesn't show up there," my brother said, upset.
"Then just claim she's sick," Alex countered, his eyes pleading. "Please, Rina. You can't go there. It's a trap. I'm scared for you."
Gently, I put my hand on his cheek.
"I know, Alex. I know." Tenderly, I breathed a kiss on his lips. It had been so long since we had exchanged kisses. It felt as foreign as it did familiar.
I knew he spoke these words out of love for me. However, I was also aware they did not correspond to the reality we had to face.
"But I can't do that. I have to go to the gala. You know that. I'll put my family, you, all of us in danger if I don't," I implored him.
Despair lined his face, and tears came to his eyes.
"No, no, no! I can't let you do this. I love you, Rina. I don't want to lose you."
"You won't," I tried to reassure him, smiling bravely. "I'll be cautious and inconspicuous."
As far as that will be possible with the dress, I thought and swore to myself not to tell anyone about the extravagant evening dress beforehand.
"And we will always be by her side. Rick, Jordy, Dad, and me. I promise you that, Alex," Chris added.
"Where is this gala even taking place?" Aspasia interrupted our conversation. Her gaze was thoughtful and, at the same time, had that combative spark in it.
"At the Metropolitan Museum," I explained. "Do you have a plan?"
She grinned at me like a fox who had just outwitted the hare. "You are an Amazon, Myrina. One of us. You didn't expect us to abandon you, did you?"
"Tell me about it, Aspasia!" Alex urged her impatiently.
"I know that one of the tunnel systems also leads to the Met Museum. There is even an external entrance at the back of the building. It's well hidden between two large rocks."
Busily, she turned to Chris. "Be there tomorrow at noon and follow the chirping of the Red Cardinal, and you will find the opening and me. So if something goes wrong in the evening, you must take Myrina there. We will receive her and go into hiding with her."
"It's fine. I'll be there tomorrow at noon." Chris's gaze anxiously brushed mine. I knew he would pray all day that we didn't need this escape route. I didn't feel any different.
