Chapter 43
It’s an effort to unwrap June from around me without waking her up. The whole time, my heart is pounding wildly in my chest, Eliza’s words repeating in my mind like a broken record.”
Your dress. Your dress. Your dress
When I finally climb out of bed, I rush to Eliza.
“What happened?” I whisper urgently.
Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears, and she just grabs my hand and pulls me out of the room.
The hallway is alive with activity as everyone rushes in the same direction Eliza pulls me towards.
Finally, we stop in front of the drawing room where we fitted today–where all our dresses are kept.
All the girls, including the ones that were eliminated, are already there.
I shove through the girls, mumbling, “Excuse me,” with a shaky voice.
I finally break into the room, and a small squeak escapes me when I see the scene that has caused all this ruckus.
Nathan Ashford stands in the middle of the room, holding a scrap of material. Kneeling on the floor before him is May Rush, Valerie’s former lackey who was eliminated today.
In her hands is a huge pair of scissors, and all around her, scattered like a cloud of confetti, is the same material Nathan grips in his hand -my dress.
I open my mouth to scream, but all that comes out is a guttural moan that does nothing to embody the stabbing pain that hits my gut.
At the sound, May and Nathan turn to me, and May–whose face is already streaked with dried mascara and tears–starts crying afresh. “I’m so sorry, April,” she sobs, rubbing her hands together as if in supplication.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry!”
My legs give out, and I sink to the floor unceremoniously. The material of my dress poofs in the air as I land; a loose bead digs into my knee, and another choked sound escapes my lips.
“Y–you–you…you.” I can’t make the words come out. Because if I do, they’ll be true. And they can’t possibly be true.
The dress I worked tirelessly on for days, the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever created–it can’t possibly be in tatters around me.
I look at May, who’s sobbing like an abandoned baby–and then at Nathan, who’s looking down at both of us with a hard look on his face.
“Did you–were you…did you-”
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Chapter 43
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Nathan’s frown deepens. “You’re not seriously asking if I was a part of this, are you?”
I don’t know what to think. My brain isn’t processing right.
I move, sorting through the scraps of clothing and scattered beads. I find the bodice of the dress and let out a strangled gasp. May cut through the wings at the back and slashed through the bodice.
My dress, my beautiful, ethereal dress that made Nathan Ashford stop and stare–is a rag.
I feel a hand on my back.
“April, I’m so, so sorry,” May sobs.
I turn to her, feeling the numbness give way to rage that boils my blood. Before I can scream bloody murder at May, something behind her catches my eye.
Valerie stands at the head of all the watching girls, her arms crossed. Her eyes are wide in shock, and she keeps whispering loudly to the other girl, whose name I won’t know until she’s eliminated, too. “I can’t believe May. What would possess her to do this?”
“You!” I growl, standing to my feet. I climb over May and the material of my dress and tightly grip the collar of Valerie’s robe. “You did this!”
Valerie’s eyes widen in innocence. “Me? I was asleep in bed.” She looks down at her lackey. “Nathan caught May in the act.” Her lip twitches, and she tilts her head sympathetically. “You poor dear. Has the shock made you confused?”
“Spare me the bullshit!” I hiss. “You convinced her to do this somehow.”
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