Page 154 of Sweet Nightmare

As one, we all turn to stare at her in horror. But Mozart is the only one brave enough to ask, “Really?”

Izzy draws it out for a second, then laughs and says, “No. But I one hundred percent believe those assholes did it.”

“For what purpose?” Ember’s been listening to the whole conversation, but this is the first time she actually has something to say.

“Revenge?” I suggest.

“To watch the world burn?” Simon contributes.

“For the tapestry.”

It’s Jude’s first time speaking as well, but he says it with such certainty that we all listen to him.

“Think about it,” he continues. “For some reason that makes absolutely no sense to any of us, those assholes want the tapestry. They’ve tried to get it twice already, would even kill for it, and have failed both times. And the second time, one of them ended up dead.”

I studiously avoid looking straight at Izzy when he says that, but it doesn’t seem to faze her.

“They’re running out of time and options, so what better way to get one more shot at the tapestry than to distract us?” Jude concludes.

“With nightmare monsters?” Mozart asks incredulously. “You really think they’re willing to take that risk?”

“I think they were dying to take that risk,” he tells her.

“Because at the end of the day, they’re reckless assholes,” I say, ticking the points off on my fingers. “They do want revenge, they’re dark fae, and they are absolutely the kind of jerks who mess stuff up just to watch it burn.”

“Pretty much,” Jude agrees.

“Well, this is a problem.” Luis stands up and crosses the high-polish parquet floor to look out one of the windows. The administration didn’t bother to board them up for the hurricane, probably because no one uses this place anymore and they didn’t think anyone would be riding out the storm in here.

“I don’t actually think it is a problem,” Izzy comments from where she’s kicked back on her elbows with her legs stretched out in front of her.

“Of course you don’t,” Mozart snorts as she exchanges an amused look with Simon.

A smile plays around Izzy’s lips, but all she says is, “I’m serious. We have the tapestry, which means our problem is exactly the same as it’s always been—figure out how to fix the tapestry so Jude can do his little nightmare magic trick and send the monsters back to where they belong. Whether they’re in the dungeon or wandering the campus doesn’t matter, especially not until we figure out how to fix the damn rug.”

“You’re right,” I tell her.

“I know I’m right.” She shrugs. “But once we do figure it out, I get to kill three more Jean-Fuckheads. We’ll consider it a bonus for a job well done, once we take care of the monsters.”

I have absolutely no idea what to say to that—especially since I kind of think she’s kidding, but I also kind of don’t.

“So does anybody have any ideas?” I look at Jude, since it’s his tapestry. But he just looks back with a solemn shake of his head.

“I say we take a break,” Ember suggests, reaching for her pack. “I’m hungry, and I’m tired, and I’ll think a lot better if I can take care of both of those situations. Can we just take half an hour of downtime before we try to figure out how to solve this mess once and for all?”

The others agree, so we do as she suggests. Between us we’ve got about a dozen granola bars, several packets of trail mix, and a bunch of peanut butter crackers.

It’s not optimal, but it’s way better than nothing.

After I eat a packet of trail mix and drink some water—thankfully the dance hall has a working bathroom and bar faucets—I get up and wander around the elaborately decorated ballroom as Mozart continues the piano. This time it’s Olivia Rodrigo’s “hope ur ok,” and I can’t help but think of Carolina.

When we were kids, she and I loved to come in here—with its bold, floral fabric walls and gorgeous wood floor with inlaid stars, it was a little girl’s paradise. Especially a little girl like Carolina, who loved to turn on the chandeliers with their bright lights and missing crystals and dance across the floor to the large stage that takes up one whole end of the room. Most days, she didn’t even need music. She just danced.

Some days she’d climb on up to that stage and give a speech or recite a monologue or pretend she was accepting an Academy Award while I clapped enthusiastically from the upstairs balcony.

I turn to look at the stage, and I swear I can almost see her on it. That’s the real reason I haven’t been here in three years—not because I got too busy to come visit this beautiful place, but because every time I do, it just makes me miss Carolina more.

If I have to see ghosts, why can’t I, just once, see her?