Looping the Feed

I walked through the garden, my bare feet sinking into the damp earth. The party noise was a dull roar behind me, muffled by the stone walls of the house, but here, in the shadows, it was quiet.

Too quiet.

The hydrangeas were ghostly in the moonlight, their massive heads bowing under the weight of secrets. I reached out and touched a bloom. It felt cold. Waxy.

Like dead skin.

I was looking for Kieran. He was supposed to be in the shed, waiting for the signal. But the shed was dark.

"Kieran?" I whispered.

No answer.

A twig snapped behind me.

I spun around.

Oona was standing there. She was wearing her housekeeper's uniform, black and white, stark against the darkness. She was holding something in her hands.

A rosary.

Her fingers were moving over the beads, fast, frantic. Her lips were moving too, but no sound came out.

"Oona?" I said.

She stopped. She looked at me. Her eyes were wide, wet with tears.

"Senhora," she whispered.

"Where is Kieran?" I asked.

She didn't answer. She just stared at me, her hands trembling.

"Oona, please. I need to find him."

She took a step toward me.

"He is not here," she said.

"Where is he?"

"Gone," she said. "He is gone."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Gone where?"

She shook her head. "Away. Far away."

"Did Julian send him away?"

She flinched at the name.

"He... he had to go," she said. "It was... necessary."

I stepped closer. I could smell the candle wax on her clothes. The scent of the shrine.

"Necessary for what?" I asked. "For the house?"

She nodded. Tears spilled over her cheeks.

"The house needs... peace," she said. "It needs silence."

"Is that why Sofia left?" I asked. "Is that why Beatriz left?"

She covered her mouth with her hand. A sob escaped.

"Beatriz," she whispered.

"Tell me about her," I said. "Tell me about Beatriz."

Oona looked at the ground. She was shaking so hard the rosary beads clicked together like teeth.

"She was... kind," she said. "She liked the garden. She liked the flowers."

"And what happened to her?"

Oona looked up. Her eyes were filled with a terror so deep it looked like madness.

"She... she fell," Oona said.

"Fell?"

"From the cliff," she said. "It was an accident. A tragic accident."

"And Sofia?" I asked. "Did she fall too?"

Oona didn't answer. She just started praying again. *Hail Mary, full of grace...*

I grabbed her arm.

"Stop it," I said. "Stop praying and tell me the truth."

She looked at my hand on her arm. Then she looked at my face.

"The truth?" she whispered. "The truth is... heavy."

"I can carry it," I said.

She reached into her pocket. She pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.

She handed it to me.

I unfolded it.

It was a receipt. Old. Faded.

*Quick-Set Cement. Industrial Grade. 50 Bags.*

Dated three years ago.

The day Beatriz "left."

I stared at the paper. The numbers blurred.

"He didn't bury her," I whispered.

Oona shook her head.

"No," she said. "He built her."

I looked at the house. At the massive concrete pillar rising from the cliff, supporting the glass floor of the Nave.

The foundation.

They weren't just in the pillar.

They *were* the pillar.

"Why?" I asked. "Why would he do that?"

"To keep them," Oona said. "He wanted to keep them safe. Forever."

She looked at me with pity.

"You are his favorite," she said. "He wants to keep you safest of all."

A chill went down my spine.

"He's not going to keep me," I said.

"He already has," she said. "Look."

She pointed to the ground.

At my feet.

There was a line of white powder. Lime.

It circled the garden. It circled the house.

A boundary.

A magic circle.

"You can't leave," she said. "The house won't let you."

"I'm leaving tonight," I said.

"No," she said. "Tonight is the ceremony."

"What ceremony?"

"The binding," she said. "He binds the new to the old. The living to the dead."

She looked at the house.

"The gala isn't a party, Senhora. It's a consecration."

I felt sick.

"I have to find Kieran," I said.

"He is part of it," she said.

"What?"

"The sacrifice," she said. "The witness."

I backed away.

"You're crazy," I said. "You're all crazy."

"Maybe," she said. "But we are safe."

She held out the rosary.

"Take it," she said. "You will need it."

I looked at the beads. They were made of bone.

I turned and ran.

I ran back to the house. Back to the light.

I burst into the kitchen.

Julian was there. He was checking the hors d'oeuvres. He looked up, smiling.

"There you are, darling," he said. "I was worried."

He walked over to me. He touched my cheek. His hand was cold.

"You look pale," he said. "Are you feeling alright?"

I looked at him. At his handsome face. His calm eyes.

The face of a man who poured women into concrete.

"I'm fine," I said. "Just... nervous."

"Don't be," he said. "Tonight is going to be perfect."

He leaned in close.

"I have a surprise for you," he whispered.

"A surprise?"

"Later," he said. "In the Nave. Before the toast."

He kissed my forehead.

"Go fix your makeup," he said. "The guests are arriving."

I walked away. I walked up the stairs.

I went to the bedroom.

I closed the door. I locked it.

I went to the closet.

I took out the dress. The green silk.

I put it on.

It fit like a second skin.

I taped the blade to my thigh.

I looked in the mirror.

I didn't see a victim. I didn't see a wife.

I saw a weapon.

I walked to the window. I looked out at the garden.

Oona was still there. Kneeling in the dirt. Praying to the flowers.

And beyond her...

The pillar.

Rising up from the darkness. Silent. Strong.

Holding up the house.

Holding up the lie.

I touched the glass.

"I'm coming for you," I whispered to the women in the wall.

"I'm coming to let you out."

I turned away from the window.

I opened the door.

I walked down the stairs.

Into the party.

Into the trap.

But this time