House of Glass by Jen Christie Page A

diamonds arced through the sky in all directions, a thousand falling stars that rained down all around us. I put my hand to my neck and lifted the worn leather strap. The shell dangled between my fingers, more precious to me than any diamond. “This is the only necklace I wear,” I said.
    “A shell?” He laughed. It was a cynical sound. “Ah. So you are saying that I can’t reach your heart through diamonds, only a simple shell?”
    “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” I stared at him, willing him to remember, and feeling foolish because he didn’t. Of course he didn’t remember.

Chapter Six
    I saw Annie later the next afternoon, crossing the lawn with the torch in her hand, the other shielding the fire from the wind. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was the last time I would see her alive.
    Annie did not appear for dinner, and though I thought nothing of it, Mrs. Amber was bothered by her absence.
    “Have you seen Annie?” she asked me.
    “I saw her crossing the lawn with a torch, just before dinner,” I replied.
    “Yes, that was what I thought.” She pushed absently at her food. “You don’t think she would go to the glass house? Inside?” But she quickly answered her own question. “No, not her.”
    “I’m certain she’s okay, most likely Mr. St. Claire had a job for her.” To hear those words aloud pricked me with jealousy. I was ashamed for it, and rushed on speaking. “She’ll show up any moment.”
    “Probably,” said Mrs. Amber, distractedly.
    If only at that moment I had the foresight to know the complex web that was enveloping me. Perhaps at that very moment I would have risen and instinctively known that her life was at risk. Perhaps it might not have been too late; we could have found her in time. But I shall never know, because in my naiveté, my childish, self-absorbed ignorance, I could not see what was right before me.
    We finished dinner and I put away the dishes while Mrs. Amber went to search the house for Annie. I went to my room, set aside the meat for Maxie and lay on the bed, hoping that Annie would return and that I could sneak out again later. But that was not to be.
    Mrs. Amber knocked on my door a short time later. “Mr. St. Claire is organizing a party to search for Annie. We have checked the glass house. She was not there. Mr. St. Claire does not want you along. He told me specifically to lock you in your room.” There was a note of accusation hanging in her voice, but she was too concerned about Annie to pursue it. “I’m going to join him. You might hear us calling out.”
    I lay there in my bed as my room darkened and went to black. Strange, panicked voices carried on the wind and for the first time, a real fear for Annie crossed my mind. Where had she gone?
    Poor Lucas, forced to relive yet again the search for a missing woman.
    I heard Maxie at my window, but she was restless, and spooked by the yells and shouts. She would not come to the window, so I tossed my food onto the ground, and she grabbed it and slinked off into the shadows.
    Time stilled, and I counted the passing moments from shout to shout, knowing with each call of their voices that she had not yet been found. Finally, sometime long after I lay down, I slept, but my dreams were furtive. I dreamed of Celeste, that I was searching the island for her, but I could not locate her.
    * * *
    They found Annie in the morning.
    Another servant came and unlocked my door, telling me the gravity of the situation. I went straight to the cliffs, seeing the group of people gathered there. When I arrived and peered over the side, I turned aside, closing my eyes, but I could not push away the image that I had seen.
    There was Annie’s body, petite and lifeless, facedown in the shallow waves. With each swell of the water, her arms and legs would move, and in a horrible comedy of sorts, she looked like she was trying to climb the rocks, to rescue herself, as if she did not yet realize that it was