Free Masque of the Red Death by Bethany Griffin

says.
    I snort.
    He laughs.
    “The more I’m around, the less your parents will question my visits.”
    “I see.” I’m glad I didn’t ask him about other girls.
    The narrow stairway ends with another door.
    I hesitate with my hand on the doorknob. The rooftop holds many memories. Lonely ones from when we first moved here. I had never been so alone. Occasionally, as a child, I would wish for a few moments by myself, but not like that. Not forever.
    Then April returned from the prince’s palace to her childhood home.
    I open the door at the top of the staircase and stop on the landing. Wind whips around us.
    I remember the sensation well. I was crushed when April took this away from me. I wasn’t going to jump, but she believed I might. That day she insisted on dyeing my hair, trying to make me forgive her for meddling. When it was done, she pushed me in front of the mirror.
    “Look how pretty you are,” she said.
    I kept staring at the bright hair. I didn’t recognize myself.
    “It’s the first time you’ve looked in the mirror for more than half a second,” she said softly. “The first time you’ve looked in the mirror without seeing him.”
    Now the cold wind blows my unnaturally bright hair into my face.
    “It’s disheartening, isn’t it?” Elliott thinks my pained expression is caused by the state of the city.
    “Terrible,” I say.
    “With the destruction of the factory, the plans for producing masks are even more important. The quicker you get the information, the quicker we can get masks to the children.”
    He takes a flask from his pocket, reminding me so completely of April that it hurts.
    If I trust him, maybe we can find April. I can have a mask made for Henry. And maybe he really will overthrow the prince. I’m going to betray my father, and I hate myself for it.
    “I already have the blueprints,” I say.
    “You do?”
    I love his surprise.
    I had wanted to copy the plans before I gave them to him. But his hand is out, and I pull the papers from my sleeve, trading that opportunity for his approval.
    “You are amazing.” He scans the documents, holding them like they are the most precious papers in the world. At least he appreciates their worth. “Amazing,” he repeats. I hold his gaze. He takes a drink from the flask and then offers it to me. The liquor burns going down, but I don’t grimace.
    “Good girl.” His admiration warms me. “You aren’t what I expected.”
    I’m not sure if this is a good or a bad thing.
    “I have to go,” he says abruptly. “But this is most helpful.”
    “Please copy the plans and get them back to me,” I say. “They were the only papers in the drawer. If Father opens it, he’ll know.”
    Elliott nods. “Of course.” But I don’t think he’s really listening. He’s staring out across the city. “It’s dismal right now,” he says. “But it will change.”
    I like the idea of making the world better, instead of hiding from all the ugliness. I don’t know if Elliott can keep any of his promises, but the prospect of finding out is the first thing that has given me hope in a long time.

CHAPTER
    EIGHT
    E LLIOTT WALKS ME DOWN TO P ENTHOUSE B. After he leaves, I pace back and forth in my bedroom. Without him, my excitement gives way to a sort of despair, and I collapse onto my bed and cry.
    At bedtime, I gulp down my sleeping draft. There are no explosions in the night, but I still sleep poorly. I don’t tell Father that his medicine is no longer working for me. The dreams that I am not supposed to have are dark.
    The next morning is long and uneventful. I empty my makeup bag, spreading bottles and vials over the vanity table.
    Mother comes into my room without knocking.
    “I know why you were in your father’s laboratory,” she says.
    I freeze. My guilty response proves her suspicions. I can see disgust in her eyes.
    “Prospero’s nephew sent you there. He wants you to betray your family. I used to know him … when you and Finn