Chapter 3
Maryn
Iran a hand down smooth fabric. One of my jagged nails caught in the lace. I unhooked it carefully, then reached for my gloves and pulled them up my arms.
I spun in a slow circle. The white made my skin look pale as bone, my dark hair and painted lips the only color in the glass.
But the dress was doing its job. My curves were on full display.
Would it be enough? Tuesdays and Fridays were my only chance to mingle outside of Covenant House gatherings.
With how heavily segregated our lives were, it was a wonder they gave us these balls at all.
“You look beautiful.”
I faced my mom, beaming. She came forward and straightened the clip I’d fastened into my hair.
“Do I need anything?”
She eyed me critically. “Oh, honey, what’s this?”
She touched the chain I thought I’d tucked under my collar.
“Ruth gave it to me. It’s a friendship necklace.”
Her fingers rested on the chain a moment longer than they needed to. Then she shook her head and smiled. “She’s very sweet. But I hope you know—”
“I know, Mama, she’s still competition.”
She touched her throat, nodding again.
Stepping back to give me space, she looked me over once more the way she always did before these things. Like she was memorizing me. “Good luck tonight.”
***
Outside, I linked arms with Ruth, and we stepped into the street.
Along the sidewalk beside the Covenant House on our corner, a line of women stretched past the door. None of them wore white. They shuffled forward one by one, each lifting a wrist to the scanner before stepping inside.
“Ready, girls?” Dad turned, giving us a wide smile. “You both look like angels.” I bit my lip to hide my frown, wishing Ruth’s dad had taken us tonight. The walk was too long for my own.
A woman near the middle of the line turned slightly and the light caught her face.
“Faith,” I whispered. I hadn't seen her in over a year. She was so thin her collarbones cast shadows.
Ruth’s arm tightened around mine. She pulled me forward, eyes fixed ahead, and Dad fell into step beside us. Her voice picked up again almost immediately, something about the dress she almost wore instead, whether the one she’d chosen was the right call.
I didn’t look back.
Ruth’s dad had managed to secure us an invite to an Upper-Middle ball. The Silva family was hosting their first social in honor of their son Joshua’s recent graduation and return home.
It would be my first time in an Upper-Middle home, my first chance to see how they lived. Ruth’s dad had lost his Upper-Middle status when they'd failed to produce a son, and made it his mission to see it restored.
On the side of a shuttered storefront, someone had painted two lines in broad strokes. They hadn’t been scrubbed yet.
OUR WORTH IS NOT OUR WOMB
WE WILL NOT BE DISCARDED
I looked away.
As we walked, the apartments gave way to homes that stood alone: no shared walls, no neighbors pressed against either side. The streets widened. I noticed the silence first, then the space—so much space between one door and the next that I could have fit my entire building in the gap.
Then I saw it. A tree. Old and gnarled, its bark split and weathered, but alive. I slowed without meaning to.
“Come on,” Ruth murmured.
Homes grew farther and farther apart, and a trickle of sweat rolled down my back by the time we stopped at the end of a long drive.
Dad put a hand on his hip and coughed.
I lurched forward, releasing Ruth’s arm. “Dad.” I slid my arm through his. “Are you okay?”
He leaned into me, thinner than he should have been, and straightened. “Just a little winded. It’s been some time since I had to walk so long.”
Ruth appeared on his other side, and together we marched up the long drive toward a home that only seemed to expand the closer we got. By the time we reached the door, Dad was pressed into my side, his hands trembling slightly against my arm.
The door swung open, and a woman in dark colors stepped back to allow us entry. We moved to a sofa in the entry. “Sit here, Dad. I’ll get you something to drink.”
He collapsed onto the seat and waved a hand. “Don’t worry about me. Go. Mingle. I’ll be here when it’s time to leave.”
I slid my gloved fingers over one another, but the smoothness of the texture gave me no relief. I dropped my hands, glancing between Ruth and my father.
“Go, Angel.” He smiled, and I searched his face. His eyes were clear. I exhaled a small breath and turned, letting Ruth tug me through a grand foyer into a room filled to bursting with candles.
Soft music tugged at my toes, and scented wax lingered in the air, lulling my senses in moments.
All around, ladies wore dresses in all shapes and sizes.
Each seemed to be competing with the other in a bid to prove their purity.
Some whites were so bright my eyes burned, while others were wrapped so tightly it must have been difficult to breathe.
All giggled and smiled and covered their mouths when they spoke. Among them, interspersed like thorns nestled between blooms on a rosebush, men dotted the opulent landscape.
Near the fireplace, our host raised his glass, and the room stilled without being asked. Every head turned.
“Under Covenant. One purpose.”
The response came in unison, practiced and hollow. “For the sons we carry forward.”
Then the music began.
At the center of the room, couples spun in a tight circle, careful to keep a proper distance under the watchful eye of their chaperones. Knowing mine was out of sight was both exhilarating and terrifying at once. It only took one man’s misplaced hand to ruin a woman.
I scanned the crowd, and my breath caught as my gaze landed on the broad shoulders of the tallest man in the room. He turned, his wide smile on full display, and I leaned into Ruth.
Her head jerked in the direction of my gaze. “Oh my gosh. It’s Elias Hale.” Ruth’s elbow sank into my side. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. I might faint.”
I swallowed and patted her arm. “Don’t seem too eager. He probably won’t even notice us.”
Ruth’s hand tightened into a death grip on mine, and I winced.
“Maryn. He’s looking at us.”
I blinked, prying her fingers loose. “He’s looking at the dancers.”
“Ladies.”
I spun toward the voice, staring up at a man with sandy brown curls falling over a face that I would have called boyishly handsome. Together, Ruth and I dipped into a curtsey.
“Josh,” Ruth said, surprising me, but I held my grin in place. Did Ruth already know the host? I knew her father did, but I’d never expected them to be introduced outside a social ball.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Josh. You didn’t tell me Elias Hale would be here,” she cut him off.
His grin faltered for only a moment before he ran a hand through his curls, and the smile was back. “Yeah. We went to college together. We graduated in spring. Didn’t your dad tell you?”
I peered between the pair. I was certain Ruth had never mentioned this man in our friendship. It was true we’d only been friends since becoming eligible together, but three years was a long time to keep a secret from your best friend.
“Come on. I’ll introduce you.” Josh held out a hand, and Ruth stared at it like it might have poison in it.
“No way.”
“He only has one match left.” Josh let his hand drop. “Could be you, Ruthie.”
Ruthie?
Her cheeks flamed bright pink, and her gaze darted to me. “Josh interned with my father…” She looked down. “His sophomore year of college.”
Josh's eyes didn't leave Ruth's face. She missed it, too busy watching me for my reaction.
I straightened. “Well,” I said lightly. “I’d like to meet him.”
Josh’s smile widened. “Great.”
Ruth accepted Josh's hand and pulled me with her through the packed room. We stopped beside a crowd of preening women, all pressing together. As if they could form a shield around him and keep the rest of the world out.
But their defenses were no match for an old friend.
“Hale.”
Elias turned, piercing blue eyes sliding past Josh before locking on me. My cheeks burned under that gaze, and I took an involuntary step back as he pushed through the flock of women and stopped beside Josh.
“Silva. It’s been a minute.”
The two men clasped hands, Josh dropping Ruth’s before pulling Elias into a hug.
“Thanks for the invite. I haven’t been to the Middle since my last community service project.”
My eyes cut to him before I could stop them.
I pinched my mouth shut to keep from commenting on the rudeness of that statement. Had he forgotten he was standing in his friend’s home? In the Middle.
The corner of his mouth shifted. Just barely. Like he'd seen something he hadn't expected, but it was gone so fast I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it.
They continued their conversation, oblivious to the crowd gathering around us. Bodies pressed closer until the space between us tightened like a noose—close enough that I could smell him.
For a moment, his scent overpowered everything else in the room. It wasn’t perfume or soap. Just something masculine I couldn’t quite place. Dark, fresh, reminding me of clean cotton.
“Oh, hey. This is Ruth and…” Josh and Elias turned the full weight of both their gazes on me. Side by side, broad shoulders nearly touching, it was easy to see why they’d become friends.
My gaze darted between them, lingering too long on Elias’s sharp jawline, the slope of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. Was he… nervous?
“Maryn Veil.”
“Veil. Hale. That rhymes.” Josh nudged Elias, but he wasn’t looking at Josh. He was staring at me. Through me. And somehow, I felt more exposed than I ever had before.
I cleared my throat, giving myself a moment. “A pleasure to meet you.”
He said nothing. Still staring. I clasped my hands behind my back, running my thumb over the tips of my fingers. Count to five, Maryn. Don’t look away.
His gaze dropped, and he turned to Ruth. “Ruth, would you like to dance?”
I exhaled and released my friend. She nearly flung herself into his arms, and they disappeared into the crowd. In moments, our group thinned, and soon, Josh and I were the only two left standing side by side, watching as Elias spun Ruth expertly around the room.
Josh looked at me and held out a hand.
“You should ask her,” I said, not giving him a chance to speak.
“What?”
“You should ask her to match with you before someone else does.”
Josh's cheeks darkened, and he faced the dance floor once more, silent. We stood like that until Ruth was delivered back to me, flushed and radiant.
“Thank you!” she called after Elias as he disappeared into the crowd, Josh on his heels.
“Oh, Maryn, he’s so handsome.”
I hugged my friend, tucking her arm in mine.
I found his head of golden hair, glinting in the candlelight. He was taller than the screen made him look. Broader. The kind of handsome that made you forget to breathe for a moment. He worked the room like a man born for an audience.
He was polite, asking several more women to dance, but never dancing with anyone twice.
Even if I hadn’t followed his life on the Monday recaps, it would have been obvious to anyone watching that he was looking for number twelve.
An hour passed. Maybe more.
“Ruth.” I patted her shoulder, and we both gawked as Elias held out his hand to Corrine. Corrine, my twenty-seven-year-old boss, had donned her finest dress tonight and held her head high.
She was the picture of elegance. Posture perfect.
Her smile glowed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her so confident.
I could imagine her as a girl of eighteen, joining the social circuit, heart full of hope, steps light, and I knew she had mustered every ounce of that naive girl for this moment.
Something in my chest pulled tight watching her.
I wondered who she'd been before the years of waiting had worn her down to this.
I unlaced my arm from Ruth’s. “I’m going to get something to drink.”
“No, Maryn, you can’t. No one can bring you a drink if your hand is full.”
I waved her off. “It’s practically the end of the night. If I don’t get it for myself, I’ll go home dreaming of the punch I missed out on.” I raised an eyebrow at her, and she frowned, dipping her chin. “Do you want one?”
“No.”
At the punch table tucked beside the terrace doors, I slid my sleeve up my arm, securing it in place, and reached for a ladle.
“Miss Veil.”
I spun around, nearly splashing punch across his shoes. I looked up and up. He was so tall.
“Mr. Hale.” I dipped into a curtsey, composing myself before meeting his gaze.
“Would you dance with me?”
The ask was less formal than I’d imagined. Almost vulnerable. As if he expected me to refuse him. As if I could refuse Elias Hale.
“Yes.” I set the ladle and my empty cup down. “Of course.”
He held out his hand, and I took it. Even through my gloves, I felt his fingers wrapped around mine.
He led us to the dance floor, and the music pulled me in. His scent, his nearness—I let myself have a moment of it before remembering where I was.
His eyes met mine.
“I realize what I said earlier may have come off as rude.”
My feet continued, but my breath caught.
“What?”
“About visiting the Middle.”
“I don’t…” My grip relaxed. “That is… You don’t owe me an explanation.”
His gaze was hot on my face even as I looked away, staring at the crowd watching us, calculating. Hoping I’d fail. My back straightened as I met his eyes again.
“I saw the way you looked at me.” He frowned. “I didn’t mean to sound offensive. Truly.”
“Of course not.” The bite in my tone nearly made me wince, but I resisted the urge to look away.
The corner of his mouth tipped up, and I stared at it for a beat too long.
“I like you, Maryn.” His smile grew. “May I call you Maryn?”
I nodded.
“Good. And you can call me Elias.”
“No. I—”
The song ended, and I halted, attempting to pull my hand free. His hold tightened.
“One more?”
His tone was hopeful. Boyish.
Not waiting for my reply, he stepped into the next dance and we spun. We spun and spun, and something in my chest lightened. A weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying lifted.
His eyes never left mine even as every gaze in the room burned into my shoulder blades.
“Tell me more about you, Maryn.”
I bit my lip, unprepared for an Elite—the Elite—to ask about my life.
“I’m the daughter of Joel Ve—”
“I don’t want to know your lineage,” he cut me off.
His crystalline eyes searched my face for something I wasn't sure I wanted to give. My heart raced, my thoughts struggling to align when all I could think of was that he’d only danced once with every other girl.
“My favorite color is blue.” My cheeks burned. Why, Maryn?
He spun us. “Mine is gray.”
When the second song ended, we stopped beside Ruth and Josh. Their conversation halted abruptly, and Elias glanced between the pair. He motioned Josh toward him but stopped, turning to face us once more.
“Ladies.”
We dipped into a curtsey and watched the two men go.