Page 99 of House of Roots and Ruin
I nodded.
Raising my hand, I counted us down.
Three.
My stomach churned, feeling sick.
Two.
My palms were sweaty as I picked up the edge of the cover.
One.
I whipped my drop cloth away, revealing a marbled statue of more cherubs. Undeterred, I removed more cloths, sending dust soaring into the air, burning our eyes. Smaller pieces tipped over in our haste to uncover everything, falling to the floor and creating a terrible cacophony. Over and over we ripped off sheets, making our way toward the center of the room until…
Only a single statue remained.
It was tall, taller than me, and I could so easily envision someone hiding beneath the fabric. I squinted, almost certain I could see the folds rise and fall. Someone was there, breathing.
I was the one closest to it.
The mistress nodded at me, her eyes wide with fear.
I licked my lips, then pulled. The canvas cover sailed away, revealing a dark figure.
Constance screeched and I shouted and the figure remained silent.
And still.
Arina’s eyes, blank and bronzed, regarded us with an expression of mirth, as if she found our predicament amusing.
“He’s not…he’s not here,” I murmured, looking through the mess we’d made. He must have been there, hiding beneath the fallen covers or toppled metal urns. “Where is he?”
Constance scoured the room, her sharp eyes missing nothing.“You’re sure you saw someone?” I nodded. “In here?” she persisted.
“I…I thought I had.” My voice sounded childish and small.
She waited to speak for such a long moment that I was left wondering if she believed me at all.
“But you…”
I sensed she was struggling with something inside herself, weighing her options, deciding her next action.
“You see many things, don’t you?”
A chill ran over me. It was obvious that Gerard suspected me capable of…something, though I prayed he didn’t understand the full scope of my abilities. And he’d told her this. Was that what they spoke of while they…I shook my head against the unwanted images.
She sighed. “Come with me, Verity.”
“Tell me everything,” Constance ordered once we were in the kitchen, the gas lamps glowing brightly.
I sat down on a stool along the island, tucking my feet up on its highest rung, wishing I could curl into myself and forget the humiliating shame of this night. All of my secrets—seeing spirits, that terrible little voice in my head—were about to be yanked out.
By this girl.
Gerard’s mistress.
She’d tell him everything I said and that would be that.
