Page 23 of The Dinner Party

He leads you to the very end of the hallway, to another set of stairs, this one a lot more narrow. The lights are not as bright here, and you start to feel a little claustrophobic. You’re not sure if you should continue up to the top floor. And once again, Carson’s words echo in your head.

You are in danger.

Maybe it would be best to end the tour here. Mr. Wentworth will surely understand.

To ask to go back to the kitchen, turn to Chapter 39 (page 96)

To continue up to the top floor, turn to Chapter 40 (page 97)

39

“Mr. Wentworth,” you say, “I think it would be best if we cut our tour short here.”

He frowns, his eyes hardening. “Why? Aren’t you enjoying yourself? Not many people get to see inside this estate. You’re enjoying a rare privilege.”

“Yes,” you acknowledge, “but I came here to work, and I’d feel better if I got the lay of the land in the kitchen first.”

Mr. Wentworth is quiet for a moment, a shadow crossing over his features. Your stomach fills with butterflies, and you worry that you’ve angered him. But then, his face lights up.

“I admire your work ethic, Sloan,” he says. “Come on. Let’s head down to the kitchen.”

Turn to Chapter 46 (page 111)

40

Even though something in your gut is telling you it’s a mistake, you follow Mr. Wentworth up to the top floor. This staircase is just as long as the other one, and about five times on your way up, you consider telling him you want to turn around and go back. But at this point, you’re committed. You’ve made the decision.

When you finally get to the top of the stairs, there are two closed doors before you. Mr. Wentworth leads you to the first of the two doors.

“This,” Mr. Wentworth says, his hand on the knob, “is our deluxe guest room.”

He throws open the door like he’s leading you into a grand banquet hall. So you’re a little surprised to find that the only things inside the room are a small cot covered in dark red stains, a mini fridge, and a bucket.

“Um, do you get a lot of guests?” you ask.

“Oh, loads,” he says. “They say it’s like staying at a mini spa.”

It doesn’t look like a mini spa to you, although it is, admittedly, a little nicer than your own bedroom at home.

He closes the door to that room behind him, and then you proceed to the final room. Mr. Wentworth is now positively beaming.

“This is my favorite part of the tour,” he tells you. “Prepare yourself.”

Then he opens the door. And you have to admit, you’re pretty surprised by what you see before you.

The room is filled with animal cages.

There are at least half a dozen cages, but only one of them contains an actual animal. It’s some sort of wolf-like creature with a heavy build, white fur, and razor-sharp fangs. It deeply pains you to see any animal locked in a cell, so your heart goes out to this poor wolf. You can’t even imagine how awful it must be to be locked in that tiny cage in a rich guy’s attic. Plus—let’s face it—Mr. Wentworth is probably going to eat the creature.

“This,” Mr. Wentworth informs you, “is a dire wolf.” He gazes at the animal with reverence, and possibly some hunger. “Isn’t she spectacular?”

“A dire wolf?” you repeat. “Aren’t they extinct?”

“Oh, no,” he laughs. “My dear, you need to brush up on your history.”

Mr. Wentworth opens his mouth as if he’s about to give you a little impromptu lecture about the dire wolf, which you are almost 100% sure is extinct, but before he can, a male voice calls up the stairs.

“Mr. Wentworth.” Carson materializes at the top of the stairwell, his expression grave. “Your immediate attention is required in the kitchen. The oven is having a malfunction.”