“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“It was Alisa’s,” she says. “A lot of her things are still here. We must do an inventory, but enough of that. Let’s get you to your ball, Cinderella.”
I let Susan take my hand and lead me to the foyer, where Kit is waiting. He’s wearing a black suit with a dark red shirt that almost perfectly matches my dress.
“Well, look at you,” I say, going over to him. “You’re looking fine—and color-coordinated.”
“I had a little help,” he laughs, nodding at Joe. “I think we’d fall apart if it wasn’t for these two.”
“Enough, young master,” Susan says with a smile. “Off to your party.”
The drive into town is a quiet one, but the silence between us is no longer awkward. I hold Kit’s hand most of the way, and we talk about trivial things, as if both of us are trying to avoid talking about the ball.
When we arrive in town, the streets are practically empty.
“What’s going on?” Kit mutters. “Shops are closed. There’s no one around.”
“Let’s just head to the hall,” I answer. “We’ll need the others to investigate if something’s wrong.”
As we get closer to the hall, we pass groups of people. All of them are dressed in costumes, and some even have masks.
“What the fuck?” Kit mutters.
“I concur,” I whisper.
The streets get so full that we have to leave the car and go on foot. When we get closer, the thick, rich scent of fried batter reaches my nose.
“Oh,” I moan. “Kit, do you smell that?”
“I do,” he agrees. “But what the fuck—”
As we come up the last rise to the hall, we see the Ferris wheel stretching high above our heads and the rides gathered around its base. There are games and food stalls. Kids are running crazy all over the place, laughing and screaming as if they’re on a six-hour sugar high.
Most unbelievably of all, Loretta stands at the front gates, handing out balloons. She’s wearing an old pair of jeans and a flannel shirt smeared with paint.
“Loretta?” I ask in a hushed voice as we approach the gate.
She looks up and smiles, blinking shyly. “My alpha, my luna,” she says, giving a slight curtsy. “How do you like the festival?”
“I like it very much,” I answer. “But—”
“I was wrong to argue with you,” Loretta says firmly. “I apologize. I am still… confronted by the changes, but I was shown some things that helped me get on board.”
“And what was that?” Kit asks.
“Hungry children,” Loretta says, looking at the crowds of happy kids galloping around the fair. “Cass took me to the West End. I even heard some stories—oh, God, Kit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t really know what Leopold was doing—”
“It’s okay,” he says, waving a hand. “It’s enough to see you getting involved. You don’t have to worry about any of that, okay?”
“Okay,” she says, smiling. “Now, if you don’t mind, Alpha, I’ve got some ice cream to hand out.”
The kids charge her, screaming “ice cream!” in a great communal cry. Kit takes my hand and smiles at me, gesturing to the party.
“Are you ready, my love?” he asks, and I know he’s not just talking about the party.
He means the rest of our lives. Every day from now on—together.
“Yes, my love,” I answer, squeezing his hand. “I’m ready. Let’s go!”
