Chapter 2: The Devil in the Bedroom
I didn't open the door.
Instead, I switched off the sewing machine and stood perfectly still, holding the scissors in one hand.
“Maya?”” Vanessa knocked again.
“I know you're awake.””
“I have nothing to discuss with you.””
“Don't use that tone with me.””
“Then stop treating me like I'm your enemy.””
Silence.
For a moment, I thought she might actually leave.
Then the doorknob rattled.
“Your father has worked very hard to provide this life for you,” Vanessa said.
“The least you can do is stop embarrassing this family.””
I looked down at the torn devil costume.
“Funny. I thought embarrassing the family meant ripping your stepdaughter's clothes off in front of fifty people.””
The footsteps outside stopped.
When Vanessa spoke again, her voice was colder.
“You have no idea how much trouble you can cause yourself by being difficult.””
“Good night, Vanessa.””
I heard her heels retreat down the hallway.
Only when the sound disappeared did I breathe again.
My phone vibrated on the desk.
Emma had texted me.
*EMMA:* I'm coming upstairs. Don't let that woman convince you you're crazy.
A minute later, she slipped into my room carrying a paper plate piled with cupcakes. She shut the door behind her and stared at the fabric scattered across my bed.
“Please tell me you're not actually going to wear that thing.””
“I was thinking of making a few improvements.””
“Maya, you look like you want to build a weapon.””
I held up the broken horn.
“Fashion is pain.””
Emma laughed, then her expression softened when she noticed my swollen eyes.
“I'm sorry I didn't stop her.””
“You were one person in a room full of people.””
“I was the only person who looked like she wanted to throw a chair.””
“That counts for something.””
She sat beside me and examined the ruined costume.
“What are you going to do?””
I glanced at the wings sketched in my notebook.
“Something Vanessa won't be able to laugh at.””
For the next two hours, we worked.
Emma sorted the surviving feathers into piles while I pulled apart an old black formal dress I'd bought secondhand the previous year. I had saved the satin because I loved its weight and shine. From my craft box, I took silver mesh, dark beads, and a length of black lace.
The torn devil costume became the foundation.
I cut away its stained sleeves, reshaped the bodice, and added layers of black satin that moved like smoke. The broken plastic horn became a template for two larger horns made from lightweight wire and sculpted fabric.
Then I began the wings.
They were nothing like the white pair.
I bent thin wire into long, angular shapes and covered them with black lace. The feathers Vanessa had scattered across the floor became accents along the edges, their white tips catching the light like blades.
Emma held one wing upright.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“This is actually terrifying.””
“Terrifying in a good way?””
“Terrifying in a 'the villain just entered the final scene' way.””
I laughed for the first time that night.
At eleven forty-five, Emma stepped back.
The costume was finished.
The fitted black bodice shimmered with silver thread. A high collar framed my face, and dark crystals traced the shoulders. The skirt fell in jagged layers that moved whenever I turned.
The wings stretched nearly six feet across, their black lace and silver edges catching the light.
I put it on.
Then I stood in front of the mirror.
The girl looking back at me wasn't a victim in a torn costume.
She wasn't invisible.
She wasn't asking permission to take up space.
Emma came up behind me.
“Maya,” she whispered, “you have to go downstairs.””
I looked toward the door.
“What if they laugh?””
“Then they'll be laughing at the wrong person.””
I took one last look at myself.
Then I opened the door.
The music was louder downstairs. Guests were dancing beneath the orange lights, and someone had started a costume contest near the fireplace.
Chloe stood in the center of the living room, turning slowly so everyone could admire my stolen wings.
Vanessa held her phone up, taking pictures.
“Look at my beautiful girl!”” she announced.
“Now that's an angel.””
Chloe tilted her head toward the camera.
“Make sure you get my good side.””
Then I stepped onto the staircase.
Emma followed behind me.
At first, nobody noticed.
I descended slowly, the black wings unfolding with each step. Silver details caught the chandelier light. The dark crystals at my collar glittered like frost.
A man near the bar stopped speaking.
One of Chloe's friends lowered her phone.
The music continued for another three seconds before the DJ noticed the sudden silence and lowered the volume.
Every head turned.
Chloe looked up.
Her smile vanished.
For one beautiful moment, I watched the attention leave her face and land on me.
Vanessa lowered her champagne glass.
“What on earth are you wearing?””
I reached the bottom of the stairs.
“A costume.””
“Don't be ridiculous. You look like—”
“Like a devil?”” I asked.
“That's what you wanted, isn't it?””
A few guests exchanged glances.
Chloe pulled my white wings closer to her body.
“Mom, tell her to stop copying me.””
I looked at her.
“Copying you? Those wings were mine.””
“You gave them to me!””
“I didn't give you anything.””
Vanessa stepped between us, positioning herself so the guests could see her protective expression.
“Maya, this is a family party. If you wanted attention, you should have chosen a more appropriate way to get it.””
Emma made a disgusted sound.
“Are you serious? You ripped her costume apart!””
Vanessa turned sharply.
“Emma, I suggest you stay out of matters that don't concern you.””
“They concern me when you make my best friend cry.””
A few people nodded.
Vanessa noticed.
Her face tightened.
Then she laughed, too loudly.
“Fine. Everyone can admire Maya's little homemade performance. But let's remember who actually belongs in this house.””
The words landed harder than I expected.
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?””
Vanessa's eyes flicked toward Chloe.
“Nothing you need to worry about.””
But Chloe, who had apparently decided the moment was hers to reclaim, lifted her chin and said, “It means this house is going to be mine anyway.””
A strange stillness passed through the room.
Vanessa grabbed her daughter's arm.
“Chloe. Stop talking.””
Chloe jerked free.
“Why? You told me Dad would never let Maya have anything once the papers were signed!””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Emma turned toward me.
“What papers?””
Before I could answer, headlights swept across the front windows.
A car door slammed outside.
Then the front door opened.
My father walked in, still wearing his business suit, a suitcase in one hand and his phone in the other.
He looked at Chloe wearing my wings.
Then at the feathers scattered across the floor.
Then at me, standing beneath the chandelier in black satin and silver lace.
His expression hardened.
“Maya,” he said slowly, “why is Chloe wearing your costume?””
Nobody answered.
Dad set down his suitcase.
“Vanessa, I'm asking you a question.””
My stepmother opened her mouth, but Chloe spoke first.
“Mom said Maya doesn't deserve nice things because the house is going to be mine anyway.””
Dad went completely still.
Then he looked at Vanessa.
“Why would my daughter think she's inheriting a house that isn't even in your name?””
May you like
For the first time that night, Vanessa looked genuinely frightened.
And I realized the stolen wings might be the smallest secret in our house.
