Chapter 6: The Sealed Floor

The east wing of the Merriam's sixth floor had been locked for sixteen years.

Then it was rebuilt, and then it was locked again.

"This is where the gala will be," said Elliott.

He turned the key himself.

It was Friday evening, after the staff had gone home, and the hotel was quiet around us.

Inside was a ballroom with a high white ceiling and tall windows.

The floors were so new they still smelled of varnish.

Nobody had ever danced on them.

"It's beautiful," I said.

"It was a ballroom before, too."

His voice sounded different in here, flatter.

"My parents were hosting a charity dinner the night it burned," he said.

"I was supposed to be here. I was nineteen, and I had a paper due, so I stayed at the dorm."

I did not say anything.

"The fire started in the kitchen below."

"The stairwell filled with smoke before the alarm was loud enough."

He walked slowly across the empty floor.

"They found them by the east windows. They had tried to get the guests out first."

"Elliott."

It was the first time I had used his name.

He did not seem to notice.

"I came to the hotel that night," he said. "I went in."

"A firefighter pulled me out of the east doors with my back on fire and my arm in a window frame."

He stopped in the center of the room.

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