Page 98 of Like A Moth To A Flame

“Shut up!” I glowered at her, but she laughed harder.

I was stupid.

Stupid, stupid,stupid!

“Vanessa has aboyfriend,” Amelia chided in a sing-song voice. “But she doesn’t even know his name!”

“I am going to kick yourass,” I warned, but she just laughed harder.

After a few more good yanks and twists, I gave up. No use bruising myself for something I couldn’t get rid of, anyway.

I stared down at the collar, my mind racing with questions. How could I let this happen? What did it mean? And, most importantly, what was I going to do now? The gravity of reality was beginning to settle in, and I could feel the weight of it pressing against my chest.

Outside, the sky was dark, threatening rain as we began to get ready. I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take me, but the way I looked at it, if I was ready early, so be it.

In the dimly lit room, the scent of Amelia’s favorite perfume lingered in the air, a comforting reminder that I wouldn’t be doing this alone. As the minutes passed, the soft hum of her curling iron reached my ears, and I forced myself to focus on my makeup.

I settled on a black and silver smokey halo eye, with thick winged eyeliner and deep red lipstick—not only because it would look good behind the mask, but because it seemed the simplest to do. When I’d finished, I took a step back, looking in the mirror.

Surprisingly, it turned out okay. Not perfect, but pretty.

I got dressed, stepping into a pair of sheer, back-seamed stockings that sat just above the side slit in my dress, just low enough that if I crossed my legs just right, the lace peeked out from underneath. My dress was a black silk fit and flare, with a halter top and a low cut back. I smoothed my hands over the front, carefully pushing away the wrinkles.

The fabric clung to my curves in all the right places, the skirt twirling around my thighs as I spun in front of the mirror. It felt strange to be dressed up like this, with my heart pounding in my chest as I took in my reflection.

Amelia whistled low under her breath as she stepped into the room. Her dress was a deep, midnight blue number, floor length, just like mine. She’d paired it with a delicate silver chain around her neck and subtle diamond studs in her ears. Her hair was styled into loose waves that cascaded down her back, and she’d opted for a natural makeup look that only enhanced her beauty.

“Well, well, well. Look at you, V. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were going on a hot date.”

I tried to ignore the flutter in my stomach at her teasing tone, focusing instead on slipping into a pair of black, knee-high boots that added just a couple of inches to my height. As I stood up straight, the collar around my neck glinted in the low light.

“What are you doing with your hair?” she asked.

Looking at her through the reflection in the mirror, I shrugged.

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I-I don’t even know how to do hair!”

“Here,” she said softly, stepping up behind me. “Let me help.”

As Amelia began to work her magic, her fingers brushed against my neck, and I could feel the cold metal of the collar shifting against my throat. The sensation of her warm touch coupled with cold steel sent a chill down my spine, and I swallowed hard.

“Alright, you’re all set,” Amelia said a while later, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She had styled my hair into a simple updo, with loose pieces framing my face. I looked into the mirror and saw a different girl staring back at me. It made me brave—well, at the very least,braver.

“You look amazing,” she said, her nude-painted lips curling in a smile.

“You too,” I replied, flashing her one of my own. In a town like this, Amelia would turn heads.

Perfect. It was exactly what I wanted. We had gone over the plan this morning. Amelia would approach the suspects, and talk them up, one after another. If my stalker approached me while she was talking to any one of them, we’d have our answer.

Amelia handed me my mask—black lace, with intricate silver detailing around the eyes and tall, pointed rabbit’s ears—before putting on one of her own. It was a deep sapphire with a lace fringe and black gems lining the eyes. Then, we helped each other adjust our masks, making sure they were secure and comfortable.

“Ready to go?” Amelia asked, holding out her arm for me to take.

I took a deep breath before linking my arm through hers. We made our way down the stairs and out the door, each of us grabbing our purses on the way out. It was still early in the evening, but the sky had darkened even more and the rain was starting to fall. With my convertible safely tucked away in the barn, we climbed into Amelia’s Escalade, and away we went.

Luckily, our destination wasn’t far.

The courthouse stood at the end of the main street, a grand, multi-story building built of limestone and walnut. Well known to everyone who grew up here, it was designed in French Renaissance style, with a tall, distinctive clock tower rising from the center, and stretching toward the dark, clouded sky. You could see it from blocks away.

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