Page 90 of House of Salt and Sorrows
I was used to one-sided conversations in the mausoleum with Mama but found it unnerving to carry one on when there was a living, breathing person next to me, never answering.
She rolled over and studied the canopy. Minutes passed.
Finally, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My nightgown clung to me, clammy and suffocating. “I’m going to take a bath to cool off. I’ll bring up some tea after, if you’re still awake?”
I didn’t wait for her to not respond.
It would have been easier to use my own tub on the third floor, but the pipes were loud and I didn’t want to wake the Graces. Lenore was the only one who would hear me down here.
As the bathtub filled, I stripped out of the sodden nightdress, leaving it in a pile near the sinks. It was well after midnight—too late to wash my hair and have any hope of its drying before sunrise—so I twisted up my braid, pinning it off my shoulders.
The bathroom, all marble tiles and porcelain, held a sharp chill at odds with Lenore’s room. I stepped into the bathtub, appreciating the warmth of the water. This tub was so much bigger than ours, I could float on my back without touching the sides.
I closed my eyes, listening to the last drops of water trickle from the spout and echo in the arch overhead.
Drip. Drop.
Drip. Drip. Drop.
It fell with a hypnotic pitch, lulling me toward tranquility. For the first time that day, my muscles felt as though they could truly relax, my mind felt empty and at peace.
How much do we really even know about him?
Eyes flashing open, I jerked back with a curse of surprise. Lenore stood beside the tub, peering at me in glassy-eyed silence.
Water splashed over the sides and onto her, but she didn’t acknowledge it, only continued to stare at me with a curious blank expression. Her face was shrouded in shadows, long and drawn, and her hair hung in obscuring strands, having come undone from the braid I plaited for her that evening.
“Did you change your nightgown?” I asked, studying the unfamiliar lace trim. “What’s the matter? Did you want tea? I’ll bring it to you when I’m out,” I promised, sinking into the water, angling to cover up as much of myself as I could. I’d never felt the need for modesty around my sisters—we spent half our lives changing in front of each other—but something in her eyes made me long for a bath towel to hide behind.
She blinked once, then slowly turned around and stumbled toward the doorway, moving as though her legs had fallen asleep.
“Lenore!” I called after her.
When she didn’t return, I pushed myself from the steaming water and toweled off. Wrapping my dressing robe around me, I hurried after her.
Lenore was already at the landing of the front staircase.
“What are you doing? I’ll bring you the tea. You should be in bed.”
She turned back to me but then started down the steps, still moving with an awkward gait. With a sigh, I pulled the robe more securely around me and followed her.
Reaching the first floor, I could only guess at where she’d gone. I tried the kitchen, but it was empty, as was the larder.
“Lenore?”
Returning to the main hallway, I caught a flash of a white dress and red hair crossing into the library. I hurried to catch up, but the door across the room was already closing as I entered.
“Lenore, wait for me!”
Down the corridor, a door clicked shut. It sounded like the glass door of the solarium. What could she possibly be doing in there at this hour?
I stepped into the thick and humid air. When we were little girls, we loved to while away winter afternoons in the solarium. Sitting in the midst of a jungle with snow swirling outside the tinted glass windows felt magical.
“Lenore?” I called out again, taking a step forward. “Where are you?”
There was no answer, but a fern frond swayed back and forth. I closed my eyes and listened carefully. The trickle of the indoor pond couldn’t quite obscure the rustle of long skirts dragging on the stone pavers.
Turning, I followed. The gardeners were given the first month of winter off, and the palms grew wild in their absence, spreading out across the paths with no regard for those who needed to walk by. I shifted a particularly large leaf out of the way but nearly tripped on something in the middle of the path.
