The darkness was Delphine's friend.

She pressed her back against the table leg. She could hear the heavy boots of the security guards crunching on the broken glass.

"She's under the table," one of them whispered. "Grab her legs."

Delphine wasn't under the table anymore.

She had rolled out the other side the moment the lights died. She was crouching behind a velvet curtain near the window.

She remembered the self-defense classes she took at the clinic. The instructor was an ex-Marine with a limp. Chaos is a ladder, he used to say. Climb it.

She grabbed a handful of walnuts from a spilled bowl on the floor. She tossed them hard toward the left side of the room.

Clatter. Crack.

"Over there!" A guard lunged to the left.

Delphine moved right.

She kept her movements erratic. She hummed a broken tune, "London Bridge is falling down," stopping and starting, throwing her voice.

A guard loomed out of the shadows. He reached for her.

Delphine didn't pull away. She stepped into him. She hooked her foot behind his ankle and shoved his chest.

He went down hard, crashing into a tower of champagne glasses.

Crash! Boom!

"Yay!" Delphine clapped her hands, dancing a little jig in the dark. "Make it go boom!"

"Just sedate her! Now!" Hermina's voice was a screech in the dark.

Delphine saw the glint of steel. The butler was moving toward her, a syringe in his hand. He wasn't hesitating like the guards.

She needed a shield.

She saw Senator Miller standing frozen near a pillar.

She sprinted toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Daddy?" she sobbed, wiping her snot on his expensive suit. "Is that you? Did you bring the ponies?"

The Senator stiffened. "Delphine? My dear, please..."

The butler stopped. He couldn't stick a needle in Delphine while she was hugging a U.S. Senator.

Out of the corner of her eye, Delphine saw Beatrice moving toward the coffin. She was going to check on Cedric.

Hermina saw her too. She turned away from Delphine, moving to intercept the old woman.

No. Delphine needed Cedric found. She needed a witness.

She let go of the Senator. She dropped to all fours and galloped-actually galloped-toward the wall.

The butler lunged, the needle missing her neck by an inch.

She grabbed a heavy silver candelabra from a side table.

She didn't swing it at the butler. She swung it at the wall. Specifically, at the red box labeled 'FIRE'.

Smash.

The alarm shrieked. A deafening, pulsing wail that vibrated in her teeth.

And then, the hiss.

The sprinklers overhead burst to life.

Water, cold and relentless, poured down on them. It soaked the silk dresses, the wool suits, the expensive hairdos.

The room erupted into chaos. People were slipping, screaming, running for the doors.

Delphine stood in the rain, the water plastering her hair to her skull. She watched the makeup run down Hermina's face like black tears.

She stuck her tongue out at Hermina.

Then she pointed a shaking finger at the coffin.

Hermina looked like a wet rat. Her silk dress clung to her body, revealing the rigid shape of her corset.

She waved the guards away. They were useless in the stampede anyway.

She walked toward Delphine. She opened her arms. Her face twisted into a mask of tragic love.

"Oh, my poor baby!" she shouted over the alarm. "You are hallucinating! Come to Mommy!"

Delphine stood shivering. She let her shoulders slump. She looked at the floor.

Hermina got close. Too close.

She turned her body so the remaining guests couldn't see her right hand. The hand sliding a fresh syringe out of her sleeve.

"It will all be over soon," Hermina whispered.

Delphine stepped into her embrace. She hugged Hermina tight.

"I missed you," she whimpered.

She felt Hermina's muscles tense as she prepared to stab the needle into Delphine's side.

Delphine's left hand shot down and clamped onto Hermina's wrist. Her grip was iron.

Hermina gasped. She looked down at Delphine. Delphine's eyes weren't vacant anymore. They were clear. Cold.

Delphine leaned up to Hermina's ear.

"Mommy's bubbles bite," she whispered. "They make you go sleepy-bye."

Hermina's eyes widened in shock.

Delphine didn't give her time to process. She dug her thumb into the nerve cluster on the inside of Hermina's wrist. She twisted, using a technique she'd practiced a hundred times on a rubber dummy.

A sharp crack.

A sickening, wet click. Hermina dropped the syringe as her fingers went numb.

Hermina opened her mouth to scream.

"Mommy!" Delphine wailed, louder than Hermina's cry. "Don't let the monsters get me!"

She shoved Hermina away from her.

Hermina fell to her knees, clutching her useless hand. She was hyperventilating.

Delphine dropped next to her. She patted Hermina's wet cheek, digging her nails in slightly.

"Witch!" she shrieked, scrambling backward on her butt. "The witch bit me!"

She held up her arm. There was a red mark where she had pinched herself earlier.

The guests who hadn't fled stopped staring. They saw a grieving stepmother attacking a traumatized girl.

"Hermina!" Senator Miller yelled. "Control yourself!"

Hermina couldn't speak. She was rocking back and forth, the pain blinding her.

Beatrice was at the coffin. No one was stopping her now.

She reached in.

Delphine stopped breathing. She watched Beatrice's hand touch Cedric's face.

If he was dead, this was all for nothing. If he was dead, she was just a crazy widow who was about to go to jail.

Beatrice gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth.

The sprinklers sputtered and died. The fire alarm cut off, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.

All they could hear was the drip, drip, drip of water falling from the chandeliers.

"He..." Beatrice's voice trembled. "He is warm."

Hermina struggled to her feet, cradling her dangling wrist. "It's the chemicals!" she hissed through gritted teeth. "Heat reaction! Don't touch him!"

Dr. Sterling, the family physician who had signed the death certificates, pushed through the crowd. He looked terrified.

"Dame Beatrice, please," he said, reaching for her. "This is disturbing the remains."

Delphine jumped up. She placed herself between the doctor and the old woman.

She tilted her head. She smiled a goofy, lopsided smile.

"Doctor bad man," she said. "Gave Cedric sleepy juice."

Sterling paled. "She's delusional."

He tried to shove past Delphine.

She grabbed the stethoscope hanging around his neck. She yanked it hard, pulling his head down, then ripped it from his ears.

She shoved the earpieces into Beatrice's hands.

"Listen to the butterflies!" she giggled. "Listen to the butterflies in his chest!"

Beatrice looked at Delphine, confusion warring with hope. She put the stethoscope in her ears.

"Let her check!" someone shouted from the back.

Sterling froze. He couldn't stop her without looking guilty.

Beatrice leaned over the coffin. She pressed the cold metal disc to Cedric's chest, right over his heart.

They waited.

One second. Five seconds. Ten.

Beatrice's shoulders slumped. The light went out of her eyes. She pulled the stethoscope away.

"Nothing," she whispered. "It's silent."

Delphine's stomach dropped.

No. She felt it. She felt the pulse. It was faint, but it was there.

"I told you," Hermina spat. "He is gone. Delphine is mad."

"We must close the casket," Sterling said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "The body is degrading."

Two guards moved toward Delphine with a straitjacket.

She backed up until her legs hit the wood of the coffin. She reached behind her. Her hand found Cedric's hand.

She squeezed. She dug her nails into the soft web of skin between his thumb and index finger. Hard. Cruel.

Wake up, you bastard.

The guards reached for Delphine.

Then she felt it.

A twitch. A distinct, sharp jerk of his thumb against her palm.

It was electric.

Delphine looked up. Her eyes locked with Hermina's. She dropped the smile.

"He pinched me!" she shouted. "The prince is awake!"

The guards grabbed Delphine's arms. They started to drag her away.

"No! He's alive! Check him again!"

They didn't listen. They dragged her across the wet floor.