Page 19 of Cross My Heart

What does it mean? Who could have sent it to me?

And why?

Nobody’s supposed to know I’m digging into Wren’s history here. I’ve been so careful to be discreet and keep my true motivations hidden—lying to everybody about why I’m in Oxford, and the fact that we’re even connected. I thought only Bates the porter knew we were related, and even then, I told him she was happy back in the States.

I think over our conversation in the gatehouse, trying to remember if anyone could have overheard. I recall a tall boy, asking about a delivery… A blonde woman dropping something off… But their faces are a blur, and I can’t even remember if they were around when I mentioned Wren. A dozen people were coming and going while we talked, any one of them might have listened in. Or maybe it wasn’t my chat with Bates that gave me away. Either way, somebody knows more. And even though the anonymous invite makes me nervous, a part of me is excited, too.

It’s a clue. Some path that may lead me closer to the truth.

I have to follow where it leads.

I spendthe rest of the day preparing for this mysterious event. A quick search online reveals that the address is for a fancy hotel in the countryside, about forty miles away, so I have to figure out the best way to get there and blend in at the party. But despite my hunger for answers, I can’t help the nerves growing, sharp in my stomach, and by the time evening rolls around, I’m wound tight, on edge, wondering if I’m walking into some kind of trap—or reading way too much into this.

A knock on my bedroom door startles me, and I let out a yelp. “Woah, sorry.” It’s Jia, sticking her head into the room. “Are you OK?” she asks, frowning. I’m pretty sure I’ve been pacing a hole in the old rug in here, going over everything in my mind.

“Fine!” I lie loudly, flashing a smile. “Just thinking over this essay I have due.”

“Want to take a break?” she asks. “We’re heading over to college for movie night.”

“I need to finish up here,” I say, “but maybe I’ll swing by later.”

“OK, see you there!”

She retreats, and soon, I hear her and Kris clatter out, leaving me alone.

My pulse kicks.

As soon as I have the apartment to myself, I jump in the shower, and start getting ready for the event. I didn’t pack any gowns for my trip, but I do have a long black silk slip dress that looks formal enough when I pair it with some strappy black sandals, and I twist my hair up into a sleek chignon style. I found a costume store in town this afternoon and bought a simple black silk masquerade mask. A slick of red lipstick, and some smoky eyeshadow, and I’m ready for action.

Even though I still don’t know exactly what kind of action it’ll be.

I pack some cash and my keys in a tiny clutch purse, cover my dress with a silky wrap, and head out. It takes two local buses and the better part of an hour, plus a long hike up a gravel driveway before I arrive at the hotel, and by the time I’m standing on the grand stone steps, my anxiety is working overtime.

It’s a huge old country house, lit up in the moonlight, but the place looks deserted. Weird. There’s no guests or staff in sight.

I pause for a moment, wondering if I’ve got the right place—or date—but then a taxi pulls up, and a group of people spill out, dressed in gorgeous gowns and elaborate masquerade masks. They saunter up to the front entrance, and a burly security guy appears to check their invitations, before they’re ushered inside. I hear a burst of music emerge before the doors swing shut again.

It’s gametime.

I remember to pull on my mask, then follow in their footsteps to the main doors.

“Private party, ma’am,” the man blocks my path.

As if I could be here in the middle of nowhere in a mask for any other reason.

“I have an invitation.” My hand trembles with nerves as I pull it from my bag and show him.

A curt nod. “Phone?”

“Excuse me?” I blink, confused.

“Your cellphone,” he explains, holding out a velvet bag. “No electronic devices are allowed in the premises.”

“Oh.” I feel a flicker of unease giving it up, but I slip my phone into the bag, and receive a small, numbered token in return. Finally, he stands aside. “Enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks.”

I take a deep breath, and step inside.

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