Sixteen
Ari moved swiftly through the corridors of the second floor, her heels silent on the plush carpet. The estate was massive, an intricate labyrinth of hallways and grand rooms. She had slipped out of dinner unnoticed (at least, she hoped so), but finding Paris’s bedroom was proving harder than she expected. She was sure she knew where it was. But it had been a few years now, and nothing was quite as she remembered.
She turned another corner, only to be met with another identical stretch of dimly lit hallway. Cursing under her breath, she stopped and tried to get her bearings. This was absurd. As a person who had grown up rich, even she thought the manor was way too much. It was easy to sympathise with the eat-the-rich crowd in a place like this.
A faint noise made Ari freeze. Footsteps. Her pulse jumped. The steps grew louder, steady and deliberate, and she held her breath, bracing for discovery.
Then, out of the shadows, a figure emerged. Ari’s stomach lurched.
Nancy.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Nancy demanded, her voice low but furious.
Ari exhaled, her heart still hammering. ‘What are you doing?’ she countered, buying herself a second to think.
‘You first,’ Nancy shot back. Her eyes were sharp, scanning Ari like she was trying to piece together a puzzle. ‘Why did you want me to text you if Paris left the room? And why are you sneaking around up here?’
Ari had no immediate answer.
Nancy folded her arms. ‘I’m not moving until you start talking.’
Ari sighed. ‘Fine. But not here.’
Nancy narrowed her eyes. ‘Then where?’
Ari glanced over her shoulder, the sense of urgency still thrumming under her skin. ‘Somewhere more private. Or less private.’
Nancy hesitated, then nodded once. ‘Lead the way.’
Ari did, with the unmistakable feeling she was about to get the reaming of a lifetime. Worse, it was probably fair.