Boundless

Chapter 3

I had never been inside the Beverleys’ house before. Of course, I had gawked at it from the street as had everyone else in Lawrence but I had never been invited inside. Like everyone else, I had always tried to imagine what the interior looked like. I had heard stories of wild African animals and foreign diplomats but I didn't give credence to either.

On entering, I decided that there was not enough imagination possible to completely reconstruct the rooms. I heard someone mention that the house was modeled after Buckingham Palace in England.

I was able to spot Ezra immediately. He was talking to the Mayor but smiled as soon as he saw me. I took it as an invitation to walk over.

"Rebecca, have you met Mayor Bowersock yet?"

"I don't believe so." I smiled at the Mayor then let Ezra pull me into the ballroom.

A string quartet was playing and couples danced across the room. Across the far wall was a row of windows that looked out over the street. The reflections of the dancing couples raced across the darkened glass then disappeared from view. In short, it was breathtaking.

Ezra leaned down close to my ear until I could feel his breath on my neck. "Would you like to dance?"

I turned to him and nodded. He led me into the crowd of people and encircled my waist with his arm. I rested my hand on his shoulder.

"Do you like the party so far?"

"It's very nice. Thank you so much for inviting me."

"I should have done it sooner," he said then smiled at me.

I shifted my hand and it brushed against his hair. Quickly, I moved my hand back to its original place.

Looking up at Ezra, I decided that being married to him wouldn't be so bad. Just like his father, Ezra had blonde hair and green eyes. Every girl in Lawrence thought he was handsome–including me. Maybe after we were married, Jenny could move with me into the Beverley Mansion. Maybe one day she would completely recover and get married herself.

No, she would not maybe recover, she was going to recover.

"How's your sister?" Ezra asked, practically reading my mind.

"She remains the same," I sighed.

"I'm so sorry. No one should have to go through that."

"It has helped me appreciate my sister more," I said as if it was any consolation.

Our conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Mr. and Mrs. Beverley.

Ezra's mother, Martha, began speaking first, "It is so nice to see you here, Rebecca."

Mrs. Beverley was in her early thirties. She had dark brown hair with matching eyes and the most flawless skin I had ever seen. Her dress, an emerald green, complimented her features and made her hair seem even darker.

I self-consciously touched a hand to my refurbished dress and tried not to think of my simply arranged hair. She didn't seem to notice my discomfort.

"Miss Colson," Mr. Beverley lightly shook my hand. I could tell that he had other things beside the ball on his mind.

I wasn't sure if Mrs. Beverley didn't notice or just pretended not to care, but she began to ask questions about my father.

She was about to ask me something else when she was drowned out by yelling.

"The bank!" Someone shouted.

"Excuse me," Mr. Beverley hurried towards the door.

"What's happening?" I asked Ezra.

"I don't know," he said then ran after his father. "I'll be back," he promised over his shoulder.

A hysteria broke out among the guests and they wall started talking at once. I pushed through the crowd in the direction Ezra had gone and finally found him again.

He turned to me and I saw that all the color had drained from his face.

"What is it?"

"The bank. The bank has been robbed."