Page 130 of The Seven Rings
“That’s the goal. And… Done till Monday.”
She shut down so they walked through the hallway together, cat and dog in tow.
“Dinner at the Lobster Cage, a little local music at the village joint after.”
Cleo paused at her room. “The high life in Poole’s Bay. Ballroom work Saturday, and a Sunday sail.”
“My kind of weekend.”
Sonya continued to her room to find Molly had chosen a blue dress and added a short white jacket, as the nights already tended cooler.
“I like it. It’s been a busy couple of weeks.” She cast her gaze up, thought: And quiet, too. “It’ll be nice to have an evening out.”
She walked to the balcony doors first, threw them open. Looking out at the sea, she considered she’d been here now for six months, double the three-month trial she’d given herself when she’d driven to the manor for the first time.
Over six months since she’d taken that chance—on board, she thought, but not a hundred percent.
Until she’d seen the manor. Met Trey. And ended up losing her heart to both.
“You used to rearrange the bottles on the dresser, Molly. It unnerved me.” She breathed in the sea air. “I want you to pick your favorite. Pick the one you like best, and it’s yours. I want you to take it, have it. Sort of a belated half-year anniversary gift.”
Guns N’ Roses played “Sweet Child o’ Mine.”
“We’re all in this together, Clover. And we’re going to win this together.”
She went in to shower, then spent time trying to duplicate the casual waves the stylist had given her at her last appointment.
Decided, close enough.
When she came out, the blue bottle with its little butterfly cap was missing. Six months before, she thought again as she dressed, that would have unnerved her.
Now it warmed her inside and out.
She took one more look at the sea, then shut the doors before she walked down to Cleo’s room.
Cleo wore sizzling red with her strapped, mile-high heeled sandals.
“We look good,” Cleo decided. “Make that good and hot.”
“Well, really, we can’t help it.”
“So true.”
Cleo picked up her tiny excuse for a purse, they linked arms and started down.
“I gave Molly the blue bottle with the butterfly.”
“Aw.”
“It made me wonder where she’d keep something like that. Or the hair combs you gave her last week. Another timeline? Some tucked-away place?”
“Now, that’s a question.”
“I hope she doesn’t stay in that room. The room where she died. But I guess they don’t stay anywhere really. Part of it, at least part of it’s a loop for them, like it is for Dobbs. And will that loop stop when we break the curse?”
“I hope the sad and painful parts will. And, Son, we’re easing some of that just by being here. We brought life here, and purpose and hope.”
“That’s not just a good way to think of it, it’s the right way.”
