“It’s okay. You didn’t sound arrogant.”

She does something unexpected then. She turns to squarely face me and takes my hands into hers. “Are you doing okay, Ivy?”

Her question makes me want to cry. Makes me wish I’d kept my mask on. I pull my hands away and shift my gaze down.

“I know it’s hard at first,” she continues when I don’t answer. “All their requirements and The Society, and well, it gets easier.”

“Does it? I’m not so sure for me.” I can’t help the tear that slips out, but she doesn’t comment when I wipe it away.

She takes my hand again. “You know I don’t live too far from you. Jackson’s family home is just a few miles away. I mean, if you come over, you’ll have to deal with his grandmother.” She makes a face, and again, I wonder how old she is. “She’s a mean old witch, I swear.”

I have to laugh at how she says it.

“I’ll talk to Jackson if you like, and he can talk to your husband, and then maybe you can come over for a visit.”

“I’d really like that.” Again, I have to wipe away tears. How pathetic is your life when a stranger’s kindness makes you cry? And how much more pathetic that two grown women need to ask permission of their husbands to have a visit?

A gong goes off then and Colette gasps, looking at the diamond-encrusted watch on her delicate wrist. “Shoot! That’s dinner. We’d better go. They’ll miss us now.” She adjusts her mask and stands, a sense of urgency about her.

I stand too and put my mask to my face. She helps me to tie it.

“It really will get better.” She takes my hand and squeezes it before releasing it once we get to the door. “I promise.”

I smile and am grateful again for the mask.

“Colette, there you are,” a man says, and Colette gives my hand one more squeeze before hurrying to him.

The moment she’s gone, I hear the sound of Mercedes’s laughter coming from behind me, and I don’t bother to turn around to confirm it’s her. Instead, I hurry to find a bathroom because I’m sure Santiago is looking for me by now too, and I need a new place to hide away for a little while.

33

Santiago

Angelo removes a flask from his jacket pocket, taking a drink before he offers it to me. When I smell the smoked scotch, I help myself as well before returning it to him.

"I didn't expect your visit to last so long," I say. "Have you been here all this time?"