Chapter 6

The elevator reached the lobby floor at 17:37.

The doors slid open, and Serena Vance stepped out.

She had exchanged the fuchsia silk wrap dress for a black linen travel dress, simpler, more modest, with a cardigan over her shoulders. The cream clutch was gone; in its place, she held a large designer tote in one hand and the handle of a rolling suitcase in the other. Her makeup had been wiped clean, leaving her face bare and almost unrecognizable — older, softer, raw. The white-blonde hair, no longer styled, fell in lank strands around her shoulders. The diamond studs were still in her ears, but they seemed smaller now, tarnished somehow.

She stopped at the edge of the elevator bank, and for a moment, she was plainly deciding where to go. The main doors were open, spilling golden evening light onto the marble floor. A bellman — not Elio, another one, a middle-aged man with a kind face — was approaching her with a trolley.

"Madam," he said neutrally, "shall I call you a car?"

Serena blinked at him, as if surprised anyone was speaking to her at all. "I — yes. Yes, please."

The bellman nodded and reached for his radio. Serena stood, still gripping the suitcase handle, looking at the open glass doors as if she expected them to slam shut on her at any moment.

Margot watched from the settee. Hilda had fallen quiet several minutes ago, and April had gone to the spa to retrieve her mother's forgotten robe. The lobby was nearly empty now — only the staff, a few lingering guests, and the two women in the corner.

The bellman spoke softly into his radio, then returned. "Your car will be around the front in about five minutes, madam. There's a bench by the driveway if you'd like to wait, or you're welcome to wait here in the lobby."

"I'll wait here," Serena said quickly, and something in her voice suggested she could not bear the thought of standing alone in the open air, exposed to the setting sun.

She walked — unescorted, still, no one following her, no one stopping her — toward the cluster of lounge chairs near the north wall, opposite from where Margot sat. She lowered herself into a chair, placed the tote at her feet, and stared at the marble floor.