Chapter 7
Leland shoved Ivan hard toward the glass door. "Get him out of here," he snapped at Karen. "Lock him in a suite until he sobers up. And tell security to secure the second-floor ADA lounge. Glen is up there, and I will not have this drunken embarrassment anywhere near him."
Karen grabbed Ivan's arm and dragged the muttering man back inside.
Leland turned his attention to Ella. He looked down at her sitting on the cold concrete. There was no pity in his eyes, only intense irritation.
Karen quickly reappeared in the doorway. She marched over to Ella, her high heels clicking sharply against the floor.
"Get up," Karen ordered. Her voice was ice. "Stop lying there like a corpse."
Ella placed her hands on the ground and pushed herself up. Her legs trembled slightly, but she locked her knees.
She lifted her chin.
Against her pale skin, the dark purple and angry red fingerprints on her neck looked like a violent, abstract painting.
Karen grimaced. She didn't ask if it hurt. She just stared at the bruises with deep annoyance.
"This is going to cause questions," Karen muttered to herself. She turned toward the doorway. "Sylvia! Get out here!"
A young woman carrying a heavy black makeup case scurried onto the terrace. She was the family's private makeup artist. She kept her eyes glued to the floor, terrified of the Campbells.
"Cover that up," Karen commanded, pointing at Ella's neck. "Use the thickest theatrical concealer you have. I don't want to see a single shadow."
Sylvia nodded frantically. She popped open her case.
She scooped a thick glob of heavy, cold foundation onto a sponge. She stepped up to Ella.
As the rough sponge pressed into the swollen, damaged tissue of Ella's neck, a sharp, burning pain shot through her nerves. Ella didn't flinch. She stood perfectly still, letting the woman paint over the evidence of her brother's violence.
Karen picked up the black paper bag from the floor. She shoved it into Ella's chest.
"Put the dress on," Karen said. She leaned in, her perfectly manicured finger pointing right between Ella's eyes. "You will walk out there. You will read the apology Leland wrote. If you show one tear, one ounce of anger, I will have Leland drag you back to Pine Ridge tonight. And I will permanently cut off your trust fund."
Ella took the bag. She walked into the small staff restroom off the hallway.
She stripped off her old blue dress. She pulled the shapeless, ash-gray gown over her head. It hung on her thin frame like a potato sack.
She looked in the mirror. The makeup on her neck was thick and cakey, a slightly different shade than her face, but it hid the purple. She looked like a ghost.
She walked out.
"I know what to do," Ella said. Her voice was raspy, but the tone was terrifyingly resolute.
Karen frowned, unsettled by the dead look in Ella's eyes, but she checked her diamond watch. "We are out of time. Move."
They walked down the corridor until they reached the heavy black velvet curtains behind the main stage.
Leland was waiting. He shoved a cold, metal microphone into Ella's hand.
From the other side of the curtain, the booming voice of the host echoed through the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Campbell family has a very special, very personal segment to share with you tonight..."
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