Chapter 2
The grand corridor leading into the dining hall was lined with cream marble columns, the air significantly cooler here than in the crowded, festive room beyond the heavy mahogany doors. Ava stood in the shadows of the archway, her heart hammering a frantic, terrifying rhythm against her ribs. She balanced the silver serving tray, her knuckles turning white.
"Ava, what are you doing?" hissed Mrs. Gable, the head housekeeper, grabbing her arm near the serving station. "Look at your apron! It’s completely rumpled. Miss Vale will have you thrown out into the snow."
"I... I tried to iron it, Mrs. Gable," Ava whispered, her voice cracking, a fresh tear escaping her puffy eyes. "My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I can't stop seeing her."
"I know, child, I know," Mrs. Gable replied, her tone softening with profound pity, assuming the girl was just overwhelmed by the scale of the banquet. "But you have to hold it together. Just serve the desserts and get back to the kitchens. Do not look at the fiancée. Just keep your head down."
"I don't think I can do this," Ava sobbed quietly, clutching the edges of her silver serving tray. "It’s Christmas Eve. She was supposed to be dead."
Three years ago, Corinne had taken Lily and falsely told Ava that her beautiful baby girl had drowned in a tragic accident. Ava had nearly lost her mind to grief. Tonight, hired as extra help by the housekeeper, Ava had recognized Corinne. Corinne had cornered her in the pantry, threatening her life if she dared to go near the little girl sitting at the table.
"You have to survive tonight, Ava," the older woman pleaded, giving her a gentle push. "For your own sake. Now go."
Ava took a shuddering breath, forcing her trembling legs to move forward. She navigated the narrow spaces between the velvet dining chairs, her eyes fixed firmly on the polished wood of the banquet table. She could feel the heat radiating from the towering Christmas tree, the gold ornaments flashing in the warm light, mocking the absolute darkness that had consumed the last three years of her life.
"More champagne over here, sweetheart," a capo slurred, snapping his fingers at Ava as she passed his chair.
"In just a moment, sir," Ava replied, her American accent thick with unshed tears, not breaking her stride.
She reached the head of the table. Corinne was laughing musically at something a politician had said, her pearl-grey gown shimmering. Dorian was still standing near the edge of the room, speaking with the senator in a low rumble.
Ava stepped into the immediate, bright circle of the head table. With trembling, careful fingers, she lowered a crystal dessert bowl onto the table.
May you like
She did not place it beside Corinne. She placed it directly beside Lily.
The little girl looked up. Her eyes, exactly the same shape and color as Ava's, widened in sudden recognition. The devastating grief that had clouded Ava's mind for three years fractured instantly as the child reached out.
