The silken layers of her skirts rustled as she paced.
1, 2, 3, 4
and back
1, 2, 3, 4
She leans over the gilded dressing table and counts out loud,
“1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3.”
Where is it? she thought wildly.
Her mind raced.
Where could I have left it?
He will be furious if he counts tonight and finds it missing.
She is pacing again.
1, 2, 3, 4.
1, 2, 3, 4.
She stumbles but steadies herself with the carved wooden post of her bed.
1, 2, 3, 4
1, 2, 3, 4.
She lowers herself to the ground and crawls to look under the bed.
Nothing.
She stands again as her eyes dart wildly across the room.
It must be somewhere.
The panic rises and a bead of sweat rolls down her temple.
Where is it?
She leans over the table once more.
1, 2, 3, 4.
1, 2, 3, 4.
1, 2, 3.
It must be somewhere; she thinks as she spins back toward the bed.
She is pacing again.
1, 2, 3, 4.
1, 2, 3, 4.
He can’t discover it is missing.
What is she going to do?
Her heart beats at a frantic pace when she realizes the sun is beginning to peek around the corner of her curtains.
It is morning.
He will be here soon to count.
“Where is it?!?”
Her frantic scream echoes through the thick mahogany door into the hallway where he stands.
He presses his ear against the door to listen.
Inside he hears her, “1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3.”
Silence.
He waits.
A malevolent grin works its way across his face when he finally hears the blood-curdling scream.
Silence.
He turns to walk back down the hall as he tosses a gemstone into the air.
“4,” he whispers to himself.
