Chapter 13: The Green Room

Three hundred heads turned toward Jocelyn.

She stood at the edge of the dance floor with a glass of white wine, and for one moment her face had nothing on it at all.

Then it filled back in, sorrowful and kind.

"Oh, honey," she said, loud enough for the back tables. "Oh, that poor girl."

Nobody answered her.

"She's been through so much. I think someone has been very cruel to her tonight."

Her eyes came to me, wet and wounded.

"Nat, I can't believe you'd do this to a child."

It was good. It was nearly good enough.

Desmond caught it and ran with it. He waved at the band, and the lights came up.

"Folks, please. We have an unwell young woman here. Let's give her some room."

Two of his people started toward the stage.

I put my arm around Annie's shoulders before they reached her.

She was shaking so hard I could feel it in my own teeth.

"Walk with me," I said into her ear. "Now."

She came. I think she would have come with anyone who said it like that.

We went down the side steps and through the service door behind the stage, and Patrick was already holding it open.

He said nothing. He shut it behind us and stood against it with his arms folded.

The green room was small and bright, with a mirror, a bowl of fruit and a sofa nobody had ever sat on.

Annie sat on the floor instead.

She put her back against the sofa and her face in her hands.

"They'll kill me," she said. "She'll stop paying. They'll all say I'm crazy."

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