the time we got to the sixth floor we both had lost our breath, so we stopped on the landing to gather ourselves.
Shelley grasped the railing. “I think . . . Ion . . . likes . . . me . . . .”
“Not . . . a . . . news . . . flash,” I responded, breathing heavily.
Shelley inhaled and exhaled deeply, regulating her breathing. “It’s just, I know it might be helpful to use that—to find your parents, I mean,” she babbled on. “I really want to find them, don’t get me wrong; I mean, I really want you to find them, you know that, right?”
“Yes. Thank you,” I said, finding my breath as well. The need to find my parents had gone from a panicked, restless feeling to a constant ache, burning steadily through my heart and brain and muscles.
“It’s just that . . .” Shelley paused.
“What are you trying to tell me?”
She reddened. “I kind of like someone else. Leading Ion on seems mean, but if it’s necessary, I’ll do it.”
“I don’t think it’ll be necessary,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to keep asking people to make sacrifices on my behalf, no matter how seemingly trivial. Shelley and I opened the door to the sixth floor. Surprisingly, it was tastefully decorated, with a plush, cream-colored rug and French-blue doors. As we headed for 6A, my mind couldn’t help but drift to Shelley’s crush. “Are you going to tell me?” I asked before we knocked.
“It’s Vadim,” she admitted in a low voice. “He’s not my usual type. I mean, he’s rude and doesn’t talk much and always looks like life is kind of a chore. But one day he was fixing my bicycle, and there was something in the way he was moving. It was so confident . Weird, huh?”
I thought about the hypnotic smell of cinnamon and cloves, and the effect it had on me. “Not so weird.”
Someone walked across a hardwood floor in 6A.
We fluffed our hair, plastered on some smiles, and knocked on the door.
Ion answered. His mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I mean, hi! I hoped you’d come over, but you said you were busy.”
Ion babbled just as much as Shelley when she was nervous. Maybe he was a better match than Vadim.
“Can we come in?” I asked.
“Yes! Yes, of course.” Ion shuffled us into the foyer. “My room’s kind of a mess,” he said apologetically, “but we could talk here.” He gestured to the most beautiful living room I’d ever seen.
It was sunken, two steps down from a marbled ridge leading to a sweeping balcony. A white rug—the kind that always looked new—covered most of the distressed wood floors. A modern, black leather sectional ran the length of room, and could probably have seated twelve comfortably. Oversized paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, providing flattering lighting for the woman who sat in the middle of the dark sofa like a single star in the night sky. Chopsticks held her white-blond hair into a twist, and she wore a crimson kimono wrapped around her slender body. Her ruby talisman lay at the base of her neck like blood on snow.
“Hello again, girls,” Seralina said acidly. “What brings you to the Moonstone?”
“They came to see me,” Ion said, but I heard doubt in his voice.
She smiled at him, her lipsticked mouth stretching across her face. “Don’t be ridiculous, darling. I know why these girls are here.”
Ion looked at Shelley beseechingly.
“ I’m here to see you,” she said. “Would you like to show me the view? It looks amazing.”
They’d just closed the glass doors to the balcony behind them when Seralina said, “Did Evie send you to deliver my order? I placed it nearly a week ago.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
She tossed me a skeptical look. “Even so, you tell your aunt I will pay her when she completes a project, not a second before. That woman takes forever to split a diamond.”
I sat on the edge of the couch, far enough away from Seralina to give
Shelley grasped the railing. “I think . . . Ion . . . likes . . . me . . . .”
“Not . . . a . . . news . . . flash,” I responded, breathing heavily.
Shelley inhaled and exhaled deeply, regulating her breathing. “It’s just, I know it might be helpful to use that—to find your parents, I mean,” she babbled on. “I really want to find them, don’t get me wrong; I mean, I really want you to find them, you know that, right?”
“Yes. Thank you,” I said, finding my breath as well. The need to find my parents had gone from a panicked, restless feeling to a constant ache, burning steadily through my heart and brain and muscles.
“It’s just that . . .” Shelley paused.
“What are you trying to tell me?”
She reddened. “I kind of like someone else. Leading Ion on seems mean, but if it’s necessary, I’ll do it.”
“I don’t think it’ll be necessary,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to keep asking people to make sacrifices on my behalf, no matter how seemingly trivial. Shelley and I opened the door to the sixth floor. Surprisingly, it was tastefully decorated, with a plush, cream-colored rug and French-blue doors. As we headed for 6A, my mind couldn’t help but drift to Shelley’s crush. “Are you going to tell me?” I asked before we knocked.
“It’s Vadim,” she admitted in a low voice. “He’s not my usual type. I mean, he’s rude and doesn’t talk much and always looks like life is kind of a chore. But one day he was fixing my bicycle, and there was something in the way he was moving. It was so confident . Weird, huh?”
I thought about the hypnotic smell of cinnamon and cloves, and the effect it had on me. “Not so weird.”
Someone walked across a hardwood floor in 6A.
We fluffed our hair, plastered on some smiles, and knocked on the door.
Ion answered. His mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I mean, hi! I hoped you’d come over, but you said you were busy.”
Ion babbled just as much as Shelley when she was nervous. Maybe he was a better match than Vadim.
“Can we come in?” I asked.
“Yes! Yes, of course.” Ion shuffled us into the foyer. “My room’s kind of a mess,” he said apologetically, “but we could talk here.” He gestured to the most beautiful living room I’d ever seen.
It was sunken, two steps down from a marbled ridge leading to a sweeping balcony. A white rug—the kind that always looked new—covered most of the distressed wood floors. A modern, black leather sectional ran the length of room, and could probably have seated twelve comfortably. Oversized paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, providing flattering lighting for the woman who sat in the middle of the dark sofa like a single star in the night sky. Chopsticks held her white-blond hair into a twist, and she wore a crimson kimono wrapped around her slender body. Her ruby talisman lay at the base of her neck like blood on snow.
“Hello again, girls,” Seralina said acidly. “What brings you to the Moonstone?”
“They came to see me,” Ion said, but I heard doubt in his voice.
She smiled at him, her lipsticked mouth stretching across her face. “Don’t be ridiculous, darling. I know why these girls are here.”
Ion looked at Shelley beseechingly.
“ I’m here to see you,” she said. “Would you like to show me the view? It looks amazing.”
They’d just closed the glass doors to the balcony behind them when Seralina said, “Did Evie send you to deliver my order? I placed it nearly a week ago.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
She tossed me a skeptical look. “Even so, you tell your aunt I will pay her when she completes a project, not a second before. That woman takes forever to split a diamond.”
I sat on the edge of the couch, far enough away from Seralina to give
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