Authors: Anya Allyn
I told myself to relax, enjoy the day, stop seeing dangers around every corner. What happened in the underground was an anomaly—and there weren’t people on every corner just waiting for their chance to snatch children.
We headed down Wharf Street and into the shopping precinct. The boys swiftly elected to go elsewhere while Aisha, Viola and I browsed the stores for dresses.
Viola strolled into the first store with look of disinterest on her face. “Who would walk out in public wearing any of these!” Viola spoke loud enough for everyone in the store to hear.
Aisha and I hastened to the next store—one with displays of upmarket fashion in the store window. Viola wasn’t happy with this store either—or the next. We browsed through six stores before she found one that she liked. She picked out an armful of dresses and thrust them at Aisha and me.
“Try these,” she said.
I had to admit that she had good taste—and good guesses at size. I would have automatically gone for a larger size. I still wasn’t used to being this slender. I slipped the hat and glasses off. There was no one in the store other than the two sales assistants.
The first dress fit well but clung so close that my ribcage was prominent. Aisha shook her head when she saw me in the dress. Both of us had the same problem—we’d put on weight but still had prominent bones.
Aisha ended up choosing an aqua dress that set off her eyes perfectly. Viola chose a sophisticated yellow satin dress with a laced up back. I tried on the last of the dresses Viola had given me—a daring red backless dress.
Zach slowly clapped when I stepped out of the changing room. “She’ll take that one,” he told the store assistant, a wide grin on his face.
I didn’t know the boys had come looking for us.
Raif gazed from Viola to Aisha and me in our colorful dresses. “They look like coral,” he said. “Live coral—not the dead, dried-out stuff that washes up on the beach.”
“Gee thanks brother,” said Aisha wryly.
“I especially like the yellow coral.” Raif leant on one hand against the wall.
Viola rewarded him with an amused smile.
We returned to the changing rooms to get back into our beach gear. The boys waited as we took the gowns to the counter to pay for them.
“We’ll be back later to pick them up.” Viola waved a hand towards the dresses on the counter. The store assistant nodded and went to fetch boxes. The boys cringed when they learned we had yet to buy shoes.
Viola, Aisha and I shopped for shoes while the boys stood around watching, making jokes and generally being as annoying as possible.
Out on the street, we merged into the crowds. Something seemed to be happening in every corner. A street band performed a kind of vocal dubstep. Raif jumped in and executed a quick series of dance moves. He was good, and collected more claps and cheers than the band itself was getting.
“You’re a scream, Raif,” said Viola.
Zach took my hand. His hold was firm but relaxed. I relaxed into his hold, into being next to him like this. I knew that today and tomorrow would be the last I’d see of him, but it still seemed right. Living in the moment was the best we had in life.
We lunched in an outdoor restaurant, watching the tourists and locals stream by. It was almost shocking—so much life and color. Life, spilling out, unrestrained and free. The dollhouse seemed a dream at this moment—a nightmare in which all color drained away. Afterwards we merged into the crowds. Even Viola was laughing and enjoying herself.
"Man, three ‘o’clock already." Emerson slapped his forehead. "Better get back for the parents’ shindig. Don't even know why they have to do this. I mean, it's kind of ick to have to go to your own parent's wedding."
"No, it's romantic," said Raif. "True love is forever."
Raif reminded me a lot of his father. Mr. Dumaj was always very attentive to his wife. It was sweet. I wondered what life would have been like if my parents had loved each other like that.
Sunset was just an hour away.
Mom hugged me as I stood on the deck gazing out at the ocean. She hugged me all the time now, especially if I was away from her for even a short time.
“Time to get your frocks on, ladies,” called Viola from below deck.
I joined Viola and Aisha in the cabins. Viola was already dressed in the yellow gown. She looked amazing.
“I’ll do your hair after you dress,” offered Viola. “I’m good with hair.” She closed the door as Aisha and I began cutting the string from the boxes. The dresses were beautifully packaged in tissue paper.
Aisha lifted her dress out and laid it on the bed. "This has been a crazy day.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Like a whirlwind.”
She stopped cutting the strings for a moment and her expression looked wistful. “But fun, I mean, the being with Emerson and Zach part of it. I feel guilty sometimes for finding a bit of happiness." She gazed directly at me. “I feel guilty for getting out of the underground alive when…”
“I know.” I breathed out slowly. “It haunts me too.”
She pulled her mouth in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dampen the mood. Let’s get dressed up and knock Emerson and Zach’s socks off.”
I opened the box and tore the tissue paper away. A black, velvet material sat underneath the tissue paper. The store assistant had gone overboard on the packaging. My fingers pulled at the material—it was heavy, voluminous. A black garment fell to the floor. No red dress lay beneath. I tipped the box upside-down.
Aisha groaned. "They must have mixed the order up."
I reached to grab the black garment and hold it up. My hands shook.
The velvet folds and ribbons.
It was the dress. Audette’s dress.
Aisha's hand flew to her mouth.
A scream caught in the deepest part of me.
It couldn’t be. Not that dress
. But the revulsion on Aisha’s face told me it was.
On hands and knees, I searched the floor until my fist curled the steel of the scissors. I ploughed the scissors into the dress. Over and over and over, I cut through the dress, reducing it to shreds.
Aisha grasped my arm. "Cassie, please stop. You'll hurt yourself."
I stared at the massacred dress. Zach and his family would think I was crazy if they saw this. With a cry I gathered up the dress and ran out up the deck.
“Cassie!” Aisha called.
I cast the black mass into the ocean, where it streamed out like tentacles before sinking into the water.
My chest heaving, I gripped the rail.
Zach stepped behind me. "Kate, what was that? What happened?"
“I’m not Kate,” I said through gritted teeth.
His hands came down on my shoulders. “What?”
Aisha raced up onto the deck—Emerson and Viola following.
I turned to face Zach. “I’m not Kate, okay? My name is Cassandra Claiborne. I’m the weird girl from that news program. From the dollhouse. I’m the girl with the bruises and the blood and the doll’s makeup.”
Zach seemed at a loss to say anything. He crushed me close to him, stoking my hair.
I shook beneath his hands.
Viola’s eyes widened. “Wowza!”
Emerson gazed from me to Aisha with confusion in his eyes. “If you’re that girl, then Anna is….”
“Aisha Dumaj,” said Aisha in a brittle voice. “Yes, one of the girls who were carried out of the underground half-dead.”
“God.” Emerson stood frozen.
“You two are the girls who were kept in that freaky place underground?” Viola’s lower lip dropped.
Emerson ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to say. Why couldn’t you tell us? Did you think we would have treated you like those people on the island?”
“Please understand,” said Aisha. “Ever since the rescue, we’ve been bombarded by…everything. Reporters, detectives…everyone wants to know about what happened. We just needed space.”
Emerson bounded over to Aisha and his arms came around her. “Hell, I can’t believe this.” He raised his eyes to me. “What was it you threw overboard? It was something black—that’s all I saw.”
“Cassie’s dress was not the one she was supposed to get,” Aisha explained in a dead tone. “The dress in the box was from the underground.”
“What are you talking about?” said Viola. “Those dresses came straight from the store.”
“I have to agree with Viola,” said Emerson. “If the dress was wrong, it had to have been just a mix-up. Just a dress that looked a bit similar.”
“No,” I said fervently. “I could never mistake…
that dress
. There’s no way a store would carry a dress that looks like that. It was an old vintage dress.” I stared into the horizon. “The thing is... that dress, along with almost everything else from the underground... was destroyed with the landslide."
Zach rubbed his forehead. “Someone must have made a replica of it, someone who has seen the news footage. As terrible as this sounds, it has to be someone who’s been following you. There are strange people out there.”
His words hung in my mind. Was it possible it was just some macabre joke? I knew that when there was a major crime that caught the attention of the public, people who had nothing to do with it sometimes confessed. With the dollhouse case being so public, had it attracted those kind of weirdos?
He squeezed my arm. “If we find out who did it, they’ll wish they’d never been born.”
I gazed at Zach. “I shouldn’t be here. This is your parents’ special day, and here I am ruining it.”
“Slow down,” he said. “First thing, you haven’t ruined anything. Anyway, the parents are all on the other side of the yacht. And Aisha’s brother. They haven’t even heard any of this—and we don’t need to tell them, if you don’t want to. Second thing, it’s not your fault.” His eyes softened. “Third thing… I wanted you here.”
“Well,” Viola pushed in front of Zach. “This is all very sweet. But we have fifteen minutes to get ready now.”
“I’ll stay on the yacht,” I said quickly. “I don’t have a dress, and I’m a wreck at the moment—I don’t want to spoil the ceremony.”
A frown dented Viola’s smooth forehead. “You’ll spoil it by not being there. We’ve got three groomsmen, and we need three bridesmaids.”
“She can’t, Vee,” said Zach. “She’s had too much of a shock.”
“Maybe none of us should go,” said Aisha quietly. “Me, Raif and Cassie will wait here, while you all go ahead just as a family thing.”
Viola put her hands on her hips. “If you want to keep the stalker thing secret, that’s not going to work. Is there any way we can just get through the oldies’ ceremony and deal with all this later? I’ve got dresses here that would fit Kate—I mean Cassandra. They won’t be nice and new, but I promise they’re nice.”
I nodded. “I don’t want to be any more trouble. You’ve all been so helpful to me and Aisha. Viola, any dress you have will be fine.”
Viola smiled as though she’d won a small victory. I followed her down to her cabin.
A brilliant orange-pink sunset widened on the horizon, fusing with the dusky blue of the sky. Mr. and Mrs. Batiste stood on the white sand, wearing matching cream outfits. Zach, Emerson and Raif partnered me, Aisha and Viola along an aisle of flowers, with us standing to either side as the Batistes walked the aisle.
Mom and the Dumajs’ stood watching.
The four violinists standing behind us began to play. I knew the tune. I knew the names of so many classical arrangements now... as I had danced to them all. Week after week practicing dance routines no one would ever see. This one was Chopin's Etude number three. The music was beautiful, but bitter-sweet. I let my body sway slightly to the music, allowing myself to be carried by the notes and not the memories. At least, trying not to let those memories invade my mind. I glanced at Aisha. She smiled tightly at me, pain etched around her eyes.
The celebrant led the couple through their vows above the sound of Chopin and the light breezes of the ocean. Emerson stepped forward with the rings. The rings were exchanged between the Batistes and they kissed amidst our claps and cheers.
The Batistes stepped into a slow waltz.
Zach's hand slid around my waist as he led me into a waltz. His lips brushed my ear. “Thank you for being here,” he whispered.
Beside us, Emerson and Raif led Aisha and Viola into the dance. I rested my head on Zach's shoulder. Closing my eyes was a mistake. The music took me straight back. Back to the last time I'd heard Chopin. Darkness, death, despair and the odor of rotting moss rose around me.
"You're trembling. Are you cold?" Zach closed his arms around me.
"I'm okay. I’m fine." I stared up at the sky in surprise. Night had almost claimed the sky—the moon imprinting itself upon the indigo blue ceiling. The Batistes waved mom and Aisha’s parents into the waltz, with Zach stepping forward to waltz with my mother.
The yacht’s chef brought around silver platters of cheeses, grapes and hors d'oeuvres. I ate a little to be polite but the food was ash in my mouth.
Zach gave his mom a quick hug. “Congrats. We’ll be there at the next one, when you celebrate the next thirty years of marriage. I’ll bring the walking sticks.”
His mother pinched his cheek. “Always the joker, aren’t you Zachary. Thank you for being the wonderful son you are.”
Zach grinned, then gestured at me. “Mom, Kate here has developed a bit of a headache. Would it be okay if I take her for a stroll?”
“Absolutely.” She gazed at me kindly. “If you need anything, Kate, just call out. Richard gets frequent headaches and we have a veritable armada of pain killers onboard.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll be okay.”
Silently, Zach and I stepped along the beach, following the streak of soft moonlight. Thick, warm air ushered around my shoulders. A lizard ran across our path, disappearing in to the foliage.
The quartet played another of Jessamine’s favorite classical tunes. Chopin’s nocturne. This one, more than any other, would haunt me to the end of my days. Zach linked his hand with mine.
In the distance, sprays of water shot up high from the ocean.
"Whales.” I watched the volumes of dark water spout in seeming synchronization with the music, or at least in sympathy with it.