Chapter 9
THE SONGS HAVE SLOWED, and the crowd on the dance floor has thinned. An hour ago, Sadie tossed her bouquet at me. It went off course, and Chief Ramsey was nearly the lucky recipient until Sadie’s two sprites intervened.
At the last second, and in a spray of petals, it split in two. I caught one half, Belinda the other. It makes me wonder what the sprites know that we don’t.
Malcolm has shed his tuxedo jacket. I’ve left my ballet flats beneath a chair. He’s held me close for the last five songs, and no one has tried to interrupt us. My head is resting against his chest and I’ve been playing a game where I tug at the end of his bowtie to loosen it.
“You’ve got to stop that,” he says, repressed laughter rumbling beneath my cheek.
“Why?” I go for wide-eyed innocence. I’m not cer
