Anna is smart, though. She recognizes the terror on Katherine’s face. She convinces Barbaro that she and Katherine need to be left alone, that they have some intimate sisterly business to attend to. They escape out a side door, and down the hill.

They go to the police—and find Barbaro at the station waiting for them. Of course the cops, partially funded by Barbaro’s generosity, are all too happy to send his wife home with him again. She’s being hysterical over nothing, he told them, and they had no reason not to believe him.

All seems lost, until the lovely Anna convinces the chief of police to go up to the house with her. They arrive to find Katherine tied to a chair in the secret room, and Barbaro sharpening his knife.

When the film ends, one of Dylan’s friends lets out a long, low whistle. “Dude,” he says, impressed, “that was fucked up.”

“You didn’t know the story?” another one asks. “It’s, like, a famous fairy tale.”

“Not really into fairy tales,” the first one says. Everyone laughs.

“It’s not really a fairy tale,” Cass says quietly.

Dylan turns around in his seat. “It’s from a collection called The Complete Fairy Tales,” he says. “Charles Perrault. Look it up, little sister.”

The attention of the boys shifts away from them.

“What is it, then?” Lulu asks Cass. “If it’s not a fairy tale.”

“A myth,” Cass says. “It’s like the thing at The Hotel that I was talking about—about what happens to beautiful women. All these stories are the same story. Violence and silence and fear. There are no fairies. There’s not even any magic.”

Lulu feels a small shiver go through her. “Guess I’m safe, then, at least,” she says, trying to make a joke.

Cass’s mouth curls up at one corner. She gives Lulu a look that Lulu can’t quite read. “I’m cold. Do you want to go up to my room?” she asks.

Lulu does.

It’s smaller than she would have expected, with a handful of vintage airline posters on the walls. The floor is littered with clothes, and the bed is covered by a colorful quilt. It looks so cozy. It’s a very tempting place to get comfortable, Lulu thinks, and settles herself in the desk chair. Cass flops dramatically onto the bed.

“I hate watching movies with film majors,” she says. “They always think they know everything about everything. Like just because they’ve sat in more classes than I have, they understand everything better than I can.”