Page 54 of The Unknown

Just like me, I think. A foolish dreamer hoping for a big break. I assume hers never came—and that it’s now too late.

“When did she die?”

“Two years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, meaning for both his loss and my prying. Still, I can’t keep from asking a follow-up question. “Were the two of you close?”

Surprisingly, based on his reaction during the séance, Ronan needs a moment to think about it. “Yeah, for a little bit,” he finally says. “Then not so much. I know I went a little nuts last night. Hearing her name was such a shock. And, well, I guess I overreacted.”

He certainly did, although I can’t fault him for that. I was equally shocked to see Molly’s name spelled out on that table, as were all the others when it came to their lost loved ones. Only Susie got to avoid the experience, but she was unnerved in a different way.

You will be first.

The opposite of the message I’d received, both whispered last night and spelled out on the table this morning. Which, the more I think about it, couldn’t have been a coincidence. Even though it looked like I was the first person in the parlor this morning, that might not be the case. Someone else could have been there earlier, arranging the letters on the table just so, hoping I’d find them.

“Please be honest,” I say. “You’re not still continuing with the tricks even though Brad’s gone, are you?”

“What? God, no. I was hesitant to even do it in the first place. I worried it would, I don’t know, make people not trust me. Especially you.”

“Me? Why?”

Ronan nudges my shoulder with his. “Because we’re a team. Yes, the others are part of it, too. But it’s different with them.”

“Different how?” I say as my heart rate ticks up a notch.

“Daisy’s the most important character. Which means you’re the mostimportant actress. Don’t tell that to the others, though. Especially Violet.”

I nod. “It’ll be just between us.”

Now I understand why so many actresses have fallen in love with their directors. There’s an intimacy there. You have to trust each other, be vulnerable, reveal parts of yourself that you wouldn’t share with anyone else. Because of all that vulnerability, you also need to feel safe.

I feel safe with Ronan.

I have since the moment we met.

“Thank you,” I tell him. “For being so patient with me earlier. I was nervous.”

“I could tell.”

“I just want to do a good job. I don’t want you to regret casting me.”

“Regret meeting you?” Ronan says. “Never.”

He pats my knee, letting his hand rest there just long enough to give me a pleasurable jolt. Is he…flirting with me?

“We should head back,” he says. “Don’t want the others to think we got lost.”

I stand, slightly weak from, well, literally everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. When I take a step, my right foot catches on the hem of my skirt, throwing me off balance. I feel myself tilting—fast. A second later, I’m on the ground, rolling on my back like a dying bug as sharp pain shoots up my leg.

Ronan’s there in a flash, helping me sit up, the motion making my leg hurt more. I hike up my skirt and see that the same knee he just patted got scraped in the fall and is now oozing blood. I try to touch it, but Ronan stops me.

“Wait, let me clean it,” he says as he starts to unbutton his shirt.

He strips it off, revealing the kind of physique you’d expect from someone playing Superman and not the guy who could direct it. Impressive biceps. Broad chest. Eight-pack abs, for God’s sake. It would all be jarring if it wasn’t also, well, hot.

I try not to stare—much—as he folds the shirt into a square and presses it against my knee. Blood instantly seeps into the pristine white fabric, painting it red.

“I’m ruining your shirt,” I say, allowing myself another peek at his sculpted torso. “You should have used your bandana.”