Page 243 of The Seven Rings
“I know. They are beautiful, and so are you. I’m sorry. I have to take this for now. I’m going to get it back to you.”
“I’m so tired,” Clover said as Sonya took the ring, slid it onto her right-hand ring finger. “But I have to nurse the babies. They need me. I’m going to be such a good mom.”
“The best.”
The exhausted eyes cleared for a moment. “She’s coming soon. You have to hurry.”
Before Sonya could speak again, Owen pulled her back through the mirror.
“She knew.” Sonya covered her face with her hands. “She knew.”
Trey put his arms around her. “Eighteen minutes flat. We need to keep going.” When he started to pick her up, she pushed back.
“No, I can walk. I will. She knew, and she told us to hurry. It’s the ballroom next.”
Fires roared in every room, and lights flickered on and off. In unison, the dogs growled when they reached the third floor. Jones turned with a guttural bark toward the door where hard red light pushed through into an outline.
“Jones!”
At Owen’s sharp command, the dog snarled once but followed.
Breathless, more than a little dizzy, Sonya began to call the mirror before they reached the ballroom.
“We need to go back to Lisbeth’s wedding day. To where the band played and people danced. We need to take what was stolen from her so we can give it back.”
The mirror waited.
“If you need a minute.”
“No.” But she squeezed Cleo’s hand. And this time, she led Owen through.
Lights gleamed while women in glorious gowns danced with men in formal black suits, in shirts with stiff white collars. Sonya saw Owen Poole, the proud father, beaming while he led his young, beautiful daughter in a quick fox-trot.
“I’m so happy, Daddy. It’s the happiest day of my life.”
“I know I have to give you back to your husband again.”
“My husband!” And throwing back her head, Lisbeth laughed. “I’m a wife.”
“But you’ll always be my little girl.”
“It’s going to happen soon,” Sonya remembered.
They had to wind their way through the dancers, then through servers who passed glasses of champagne.
When they reached Lisbeth, Sonya tried not to focus on that shining young face, but on the ring that rested on her father’s shoulder.
The music stopped, as did all movement.
“I’m sorry, Lissy.” She slid the ring off the bride’s finger and onto her own.
They’d barely started back when the music sounded again. Sonya stumbled through a pair of dancers. She caught herself, but thought she’d lost Owen.
She stopped, looked behind her.
“She’s coming. Go!”
Through the laughter, the dancers, then the screams, Sonya ran. She caught a glimpse of Dobbs gliding into the ballroom as she and Owen all but fell through the mirror.
