"You're shorter than your coat."
They were the first words Madame Marilka Rinora ever said to her, and Alina decided on the spot that they were the most honest thing anyone had said to her in Halden Bay.
"It wasn't my coat," Alina said.
"No." The old woman's eyes, pale and sharp as cut crystal, flicked to Avery and back. "It was not."
Orelle's private dining room sat at the top of a curving marble staircase, behind a door with no handle that opened only when a man in white gloves decided you deserved it. Inside, the walls were silk the color of old champagne. The chandelier dripped crystal. The table was set with so much silver that Alina counted four forks and decided to simply follow Avery's hands and pray.
There were no prices on the menu. Alina had worked in PR long enough to know
