Page 119 of Joey

My feet are stuck, my mind too taken aback at the sudden switch in mood and atmosphere.

Huck takes one arm, Wald takes the other, and we walk forward together as a team.

The people have parted. But the admiring, good-natured awe that accompanied the parting for two small beautiful girls in the foyer is gone. Hidden behind those masks are glares of animosity.

“Please!” someone yells. “Everyone take their seats!”

The crowd disperses and we end up at the top of the massive ballroom in front of a large round table.

All the tables are round. I can see that now that people are taking their seats. But the one unusual thing about our table is that it’s set for four. Just us four, I guess. And only on one side. So when we take our seats we are facing the room.

“Breathe,” Huck says, leaning in to my ear. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t think it’s fine,” Joey says. “But I’m just paranoid. So don’t mind me.”

“Welcome to the Kane family estate,” a disembodied voice says from… somewhere.

I look around for Michael, but he’s disappeared into the room. Impossible to pick out among the many white-masked faces.

“Joey Boston,” the voice continues. “Wald Wynn. Huck Newtown. And…”

I cringe and suck in a deep breath of air. Because I just know he’s not going to call me Brooke.

“Brooke Alder,” he finishes.

I let out the breath.

And then someone says, “Brooke!” And all heads turn towards a man walking up the center aisle towards our table.

I know who he is before he takes off that mask.

Even though I have not seen or heard from him since I was sixteen years old, I would recognize that voice anywhere.

My mother’s old boyfriend.

And I don’t need the woman on his arm to take off her mask, either.

I don’t even need her to speak.

I know her immediately. Like the past thirteen years never happened, there she is.

My mother.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE - JOEY

“Who the fuck is that?” Huck says.

I glance at him, then Brooke. She’s seated on my right. Huck is on the other side of her and Wald is on my left. We all have a look of utter confusion. Even me, and I thought I knew what this was.

“That,” she says, in a low, even tone, “is a man I never thought I’d have to see again. And right next to him is my… mother.”

Huck looks at the couple as they approach our table. “What the fuck?”

“The one who kidnapped you?” I ask.

“No,” the man says. “The one who sold her.”

“Why are you here?” Brooke seethes. “What the hell?” She looks around, presumably for Michael Conner, but there’s no way to know which one of these white-masked freaks is him.