Chapter Forty-Nine Adrianna
Chapter Forty-Nine
ADRIANNA
I lean on the balcony of the Tower Suite, staring out to sea.
After I screamed the place down, the masked figure vanished from sight. Within moments, Ophelia was at the door, hammering to get in. I was so worked up it took me several attempts to fit my fingerprint and open the door.
Security flooded the room while I sat on the bed shaking, my arms wrapped around my legs, but they found nothing.
‘Dri?’ I turn to see Georgia, practically dressed in ballet flats, navy culottes and cream camisole. Her anxious face is framed by a neatly styled Hermès scarf, dividing her mass of curling dark hair into a side parting, falling prettily forward over her neat brows.
She puts a hand over mine. ‘They can’t find any evidence of an intruder anywhere,’ she says softly, watching my eyes. ‘No one could have gotten in or out. We checked. Are you sure—’
I shake my head fiercely. ‘I saw someone. On the balcony. Someone wearing a cloak and a mask.’ I’m still breathing hard. Slow, considered breaths.
‘I spoke to your therapist,’ says Georgia gently. ‘She says it’s quite usual to have trauma flashbacks when faced with the same environment. And given the stress of the wedding …’
‘What about the cake?’ I demand. ‘Did I imagine that?’ Feelings overwhelm me, and tears prick my eyes.
Georgia squeezes my hand. ‘Dri,’ she says finally, ‘is there something you’re not telling me?’
I don’t answer.
‘The secret bar, in the panic room. Sepulcrum?’ She gives me a loaded look. ‘I saw the designs. I know it’s supposed to have a gothic edge, but … what does our old school crest have to do with a luxury chill-out lounge?’
‘The brief for Sepulcrum was eclectic,’ I say, trying to keep my tone casual. My hand is trembling. Forcibly, I will it to stop.
‘Just … all those saints and stuff,’ she presses. ‘It’s creepy.’
‘Kitsch is really in,’ I say, relieved that I’ve managed to get my voice under control now. ‘We’re just used to seeing it a certain way because of Kensington Manor School. All the tortured martyrs.’ I can’t trust my voice anymore, so I stop talking, looking out onto the island.
Georgia frowns. ‘Silky’s notepad,’ she says. ‘Housekeeping took it. We need to get it back.’
I glance across at her, confused.
‘It wasn’t just sad schoolgirls Silky had drawn,’ continues Georgia. ‘There was … this … cloaked figure. Exactly like the person who held you captive.’ She pauses, watching my face. ‘Dri, how would Silky know that? You only told police, right?’
My hands tighten on the rail. I can’t lie to her, so I don’t say anything. There’s a long pause.
They all know Trinity. Silky. Petra, Ophelia.
‘Might it be a good idea to fly Silky home?’ suggests Georgia.
I twist to her. ‘You think we could?’ I can’t keep the relief from my voice.
‘If she’s sick …’ Georgia’s voice trails off. ‘I’ll call housekeeping,’ she decides, moving to the bedside phone. ‘See if they can check on her.’
‘Have them locate the sketchpad too,’ I say pressing my fingertips into my forehead. ‘We should … destroy it. Maybe.’
Georgia gives a brief decisive nod.
It’s all too much, suddenly. The wedding. The bridesmaids. Trinity. Who did that to my cake?
I stare out over the island. The first Kensington Manor School started out here. I’m looking to where the faint outline of the old bell tower can just be seen.
Georgia’s conversation with housekeeping fades into the background. It’s only when she replaces the receiver, I notice the slant of shock on her face.
‘What is it?’ I ask. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Silky’s not in the cabana where I left her. She’s vanished.’ She adjusts the cream strap of her camisole, and pulls at the delicate strands of her gold necklaces. ‘You don’t think she’s gone looking for the old part of the island?’ suggests Georgia, nervously. ‘Where the old school building is?’
‘The Bell Tower?’ Both our eyes swing out toward the hump of jungle, where a gray bell-tower can just be seen through the foliage. I shake my head sharply. ‘Silky has no reason to go there.’
‘You know Simone wanted access to the Bell Tower too?’ says Georgia quietly. ‘That’s what she and Dad arranged. Simone wanted access to film part of the show out there. Dri … why would Simone be scoping for an episode of Wrongly Accused on Elysium, unless—’
‘No.’ I say it sharply enough to make Georgia blink. ‘None of my bridesmaids held me captive. I would have known. And don’t worry about Silky. She always shows up.’ I snatch a look at Georgia, and then away again, out toward the ocean.