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“It’s not enough.”
“Please.” Her voice cracked. “I can’t lose my family. I can’t—”
“Then you’ll do what I ask.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to come with me.” Leaning back in my chair, I kept my expression neutral. “There’s a place that can help you. A theater. They specialize in . . . absolution.”
“Absolution?”
“Confession.” Meeting her gaze, I let the word hang between us. “You tell them what you did. They witness it. And then it’s over.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
She didn’t believe me. But she was desperate enough to try.
I brought her to the House three nights later.
Evangeline was waiting in the lobby, her expression calm and professional. She handed Margaret a porcelain mask painted with lilies and gestured toward the theater doors. “The performance begins in ten minutes.”
“Performance?” Margaret’s voice was tight with panic. “You said this was private.”
“It is.” I took her arm and guided her toward the doors. “The audience is just witnesses. They won’t know who you are.”
That was a lie.
The House always knew.
Inside, the theater was packed. Every seat filled with masked guests whose porcelain faces turned toward the stage as the lights dimmed. Margaret stood beside me in the wings, her breathing shallow and rapid.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
“You already agreed.”
“I didn’t agree to—”
“You signed the contract.” Pulling the paper from my pocket, I held it up. “You agreed to confess. You agreed to be witnessed. And you agreed that the House could use your confession however it wanted.”
Her face went pale. “That’s not what you said.”
“It’s what you signed.”
Before she could respond, Evangeline stepped onto the stage. The audience went silent.
“Tonight,” Evangeline said, her voice amplified by speakers hidden in the walls, “we have a guest who wishes to confess. She has carried her secret for two years, and it has poisoned everything she loves. The House offers her absolution—if she is willing to speak the truth.”
Margaret tried to pull away, but I held her arm tight.
“Go,” I said.
“Please—”
“Go.”
She stumbled onto the stage, her mask askew, her hands trembling. The lights focused on her, harsh and unforgiving, and the audience leaned forward.
