Chapter 19

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She sat frozen in bed, an echo of a kiss haunting her lips. What was that?
"Happy New Year, Mrs. Thorne." He kissed her hand, the shiny new ring glittering..."
Just as the image began to fade from her mind, the door to her room shuddered open. If possible, Cress felt herself stiffen even more.
Her mother scowled in disgust as the glow from the hallway illuminated Cress's thin figure, huddled under the covers.
"You complete imbecile. Now your gown is wrinkled, how are we supposed to parade you around tonight looking like that?" Mrs. LeCourtier's lips curled as she stepped further into the area, headed for the wardrobe hastily packed to the brim with the latest fashions.
"Hello to you too Mother." Cress muttered under her breath.
Richard was already lighting another cigar furiously, his hands shaking as his face grew fiery. Cress lowered her head submissively and stood, ready to go along with whatever was coming to her.
"This will have to do for now." Mrs. LeCourtier said, holding up a glittering black gown and a dark bustle in the back. Cress's eyes widened as she took it all in, then slowly started to shake her head.
"Shut it." Richard hissed threw his cigar.
"Mother, I'll fall out of it." Silence echoed through the room as they all realized she was speaking the truth. The girl was close to skeleton-like, it would be a feat of magic to get her to appear healthy at the event tonight.
Richard sighed tiredly and turned to the lit fireplace, flapping the newspaper back up around his face as her mother untied the strings of her corset.
She turned her mind away from the pain as she was pinched, prodded, and stuffed into the thick crystal-studded evening gown. When her mother discovered that Cress had been right, as the dress slipped off her shoulders, when they had to sew the back up further to push the sleeves further up, when they poked her cheeks to make them appear full, she was away.
Moments like these were her only escape from the burden that was living. These were the moments where she could go back to the crowded, filthy streets of Brooklyn and still somehow feel that she belonged, that she was home. The second her eyes fluttered closed she could taste the smokey ash in the air, hear the hundreds of people's voices resounding around her as she walked, her shoes clicking against weathered cobblestone streets. She could feel her heart pounding with anticipation as she entered the bed and breakfast, past a cheerful Scarlet and wary Wolfe, past Ben and the newsboys, past the smells sneaking up from the kitchen, up the rickety staircase, past the blurry window that overlooked the fire escape she'd once been stolen from, and finally, into her room.
Their room.
It was the same as it had always been, a bit too small, a bit too dusty, a bit too painful to look at. But cozy and comfortable all the same. Back in the real world, she bit her lip and scrunched her eyes tighter closed as her soul crept up onto the bed, wrapped itself in the ragged blanket, and stared at the stars dusting the skyline of New York.
A gasp fled her mouth as her mother cinched the sash around her waist one knot too tight, and Cress had to grip the bed rail to keep from passing out.
"I almost forgot about those." Her mother said, motioning to Cress's scarred hands. Cress had forgotten also, and couldn't remember the last time she had thought about them. Even with Thorne around, she hadn't felt self-conscious. It gave her another mystery to think blankly about while she was shoved into long black gloves, velvet and warm. At least they'd keep her from turning blue.
Her parents left her be after she'd finished transforming into a deception, and she was free to slump back in bed. Now that the lamps were lit, she could actually observe her prison for the first time. There was no point, of course. She'd only be there for another ten hours at best, but it gave her something to do while her parents finished getting primped.
There was a large armoire at the opposite end of her room, practically empty as her parents hadn't bothered to pack for her. To its right, a small sitting chair facing the window, half covered with large plum colored drapes. Feeling a hint of curiosity, Cress sat up and edged towards the glass, squinting as the flame inside made it difficult to see what lay beyond.
She could make out party tents surrounding a massive fountain. On top was a stone sculpture of a boy, standing tall and proud, a sword in his hand. A prince.
For a moment Cress wished she could go back to who she'd always been, a naive child waiting for someone like that statue to rescue her. But it was nothing but a piece of rock, and she was nothing like what she had once been. And none of that mattered now. She was almost done.
A tentative frown slipped across her mouth as the drapes fell from her hand, once again hiding the view. She was about to go back to her bed when a note on the armoire caught her eye.
Cress picked it up hesitantly, ignoring the way her hands shook. It was truly pathetic, how weak they'd made her, without even trying.
It has been certified that this room is cleaned regularly every day at your convenience, whenever is preferable to you. Satisfaction in cleanliness guaranteed.
Her chest began to pound as she dropped the note, a brilliant idea already forming in her weary mind. How had she not considered it before? There was still a way to get out of this. SHe could escape. So long as she got someone else involved, they might not be able to come after her any more.
Mind racing, she stumbled to the desk to the let of her bed and began to search for something, anything, to write on. It was almost easy to ignore the blinding pain in her ankle now. Cress whirled around, wildly checking the room for---
There!
Cress yanked open the nightstand drawer, accidently shaking it so much that the lamp rattled off and fell onto the bed. She jumped, automatically covering her mouth to hide the squeak of alarm. If they walked in now, it would all be over.
"Quiet down in there!" Madam LeCourtier hissed. Cress didn't want to risk her voice giving it away, so she grabbed the Bible from the drawer as quickly as possible and sat back down at the desk, uncapping the ballpoint pen. The last letter she'd written flashed through her mind, and she had to take a calming breath before starting to write on the first blank page.
I'm being kept here against my will. Please, whoever is reading this, know that if you find this tomorrow, I will be dead. If so, then no need to concern yourself with my problems. But if you find this tonight, then I beg you, find help. I'm the girl with the limp and short hair, really impossible to miss. You're my last resort. If no one finds this, if no one tries to understand, I will die. Please help me escape them.
Cress LeCourtier
She dropped the pen as soon as she'd finished, tore out the front page, prayed that she wouldn't be punished for harming the Holy Writ, then hobbled back to the armoire and placed the letter dead center in the cupboard, somewhere she was certain a maid was bound to check.
A rattle of the doorknob shook her out of her prayer, and she quickly shut the doors and scurried back to her position near the bed, gently pushing the drawer back into place just as the door opened.
"It's time, have you gotten any of your strength back?" Richard asked, his hand braced against the doorway. They both already knew the answer, but Cress shook her head anyways. He shrugged and turned away, expecting her to follow. Which she did.
The lobby was packed with people dressed to the nines in expensive clothes that all looked the same, but it couldn't have been a more perfect situation to get into. They fit in completely, and entered the crowd with ease. Thank goodness for the holiday. As her parents ordered another coach to take them to the town hall, where the opening ceremonies took place, she slipped away from behind them and limped up to the front desk.
"Ma'am, are you quite alright?" The concierge asked, her eyebrows furrowing worriedly. Cress managed a reassuring smile that didn't convince the woman at all.
"Fine, yes, fine. Um, I believe our rooms haven't been attended too today." She said, pausing to bite her lip as the woman checked her logbook.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken, miss. All rooms have been signed off on already this afternoon."
"I apologize, but we really need another cleaning check. Please." Cress braced her arms against the counter, exhausted from the effort to stay upright. Her foot ached unbearably, but she had to make it through this. It was her last chance.
The concierge was beginning to look annoyed now, concern leaving her expression permanently.
"Ma'am, I can assure you that we hold our rooms to the highest standards. Unless there's something spilled or---"
"Yes! Yes that's it!" Cress flushed in shame. She was really losing her touch. Why hadn't she thought of that excuse earlier?! Now they'd be suspicious, she was already taking up too much time. "I really need to have something looked at, in my room specifically." She stressed the last few syllables, then thanked her before turning to locate the captors.
It was by nothing short of a miracle that her parents were already outside, waiting for the coach to arrive. They barely noticed her slip in between them as they entered the tiny compartment. She breathed out a silent sigh of relief that she hadn't been caught in the act, her thoughts now turning to how she was going to survive a party.
Parties involved walking and mingling and sipping drinks that made you woozy. Parties made you forget what you were trying to accomplish in the first place. Parties had a bad tendency to get out of hand, and force people dance.
Who was she kidding? She had no chance.

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