Doors snapped behind Lilith like jaws, making her jump. A crystal chandelier reminiscent of an inverted rose dangled from the ceiling. Alfred Bloom stood with an affixed smile, leaning against the fireplace mantelpiece. Two grand marble staircases snaked up to the second floor. On the left, a long empty hall ended in a cascade of glass doors leading into the garden. On the right, in an identical hall, a crowd of people milled about, settling down for dinner.

"Well...look at you, all grown up." Alfred took a step toward Lilith and her every bone cried to run, but she stood her ground. It wasn't polite to behave like a scared little girl in front of your grandfather now, was it? Panther bit on her arm for encouragement. Lilith pinched him back with affection.

"Hello," she said timidly.

"Last time I saw you, you were...oh, about this big?" Alfred's palm hovered mid-thigh.

"A few inches higher, actually. I was almost three years old, Grandfather," Lilith said sweetly.

"You used to call me Opa. Grandpa in German." Alfred stretched his lips. Under other circumstances, it might have passed for a smile. His silky accent and annoying pauses brought Lilith back ten years, to her grandmother's funeral. Terrifying images floated up from her memory like photographs: black crowd, white faces, and blood-red roses.

"Please excuse me, Grandfather, but I don't seem to recall that. I do remember one other thing," Lilith said, pausing for dramatic effect, "the lovely smell of your roses."

Panther perked up his ears.

"And how, exactly, did they smell?" Alfred inquired.

"Dad? You with Lilith? We're waiting," came from the dinner hall.

"Coming, my dear! Your daughter is distracting me with her charm," Alfred shouted back. "Well, looks like it's dinner time. And what is this...creature?" He pointed to the whippet.

"Oh, excuse me. I thought dad told you. Let me introduce you. Panther—Grandfather. Grandfather—Panther."

Panther grinned a sinister row of teeth.

Alfred's face lost its color. "I'm afraid...we'll have to put, um, Panther, where he belongs." He snapped his fingers. "GUSTAV!"

A tall bald man hurtled out of nowhere on shaky legs, his head shining with years of polished servitude. Lilith recognized him as the one who took the mastiff away.

"Herr Bloom?" Gustav squeezed between watery lips.

Alfred fired off something in German.

Lilith opened her mouth to ask what he meant, when Gustav unceremoniously yanked the dog out of her grip and, accompanied by Panther's protestant barking, carried him off.

"Panther! No! Give him back!" Lilith called, bewildered. "Where is he taking him?" She made to run after them.

"Why...to where dogs belong, of course. To the dog house. Shall we?" Alfred snatched her arm and wheeled her around. His close presence overwhelmed her senses with that same sickening smell, and his rudeness left her temporarily speechless.

They entered the dinner hall. It dazzled with its size and splendor. Numerous floor vases held rose bouquets of every possible shade of red: from burgundy, to cardinal, to shockingly bright carmine. They issued a pleasant and, thankfully, appropriate fragrance. A dinner table stood in the middle of the room, with a dozen people milling about. Lilith gasped for air, forcing herself to cool down. Her heart jumped out of her chest and her instincts screamed to run, but she was not the running kind. Years of being taunted at school taught her an excellent winning technique. By staying annoyingly sweet and calm she could drive anyone nuts, especially her mother.

Her grandfather certainly deserved a dose of sweetness.

"Please excuse my outburst. I should've thanked you for taking care of my pet. That was terribly inconsiderate of me." Lilith sighed theatrically, attempting to edge away.

"Well...I'm impressed. You've got excellent manners." Alfred sounded bemused. "Who taught you, my dear?"

"Why, my pet, of course," said Lilith coolly, still wounded from parting with Panther in such a rude manner and thinking that, if her grandfather kept treating her like an idiot, she would quickly lose her polite demeanor.

Guests noticed their presence.

Lilith's parents waved.

A loud call cut above the other voices. "Zere iz ze child!" An elephantine woman sheathed in a violet dress, excessive makeup plastered over her face, broke off from a circle of talking people and strolled toward them, pulling two preteen girls behind. Lilith immediately decided that she didn't like her.

"At last. Mama found ze child for you, meine mädchens." Her jowls jiggling, the woman huffed and puffed on arrival, addressing her twin daughters, who were fat, blond, and ugly.

"Excuse me, but I would appreciate it if you didn't call me a child." Lilith pointed one foot like a ballerina. It gave her a certain confidence. "I'm not a child. I'm an adult trapped in a child's body." She smiled sweetly.

The twins sniggered. Their pigtails touched as they undoubtedly discussed Lilith's appearance. They wore matching purple evening gowns, and Lilith immediately despised her choice of navy skirt and sailor shirt.

"Ooh-la-la!" the woman nearly sang. "I like ze child wiz ze character." Karakter, it sounded like. "Irma Schlitzberger, your grandfather's cousin." She stretched out her pudgy hand. Lilith reluctantly shook it. It felt like she was sinking her fingers into cold cookie dough. "Zis iz Gwen and Daphne. They were very much looking forward to your arrival." She pointed at the girls, and they grinned, revealing identical braces.

"Of course they were," said Lilith.

"Hallo," they squealed in unison, staring her down.

"I'm Daphne. Zis iz Gwen. What iz your name?" said the girl on the right with surprisingly little accent, probably the brighter of the two. Her heavy jaw stuck out, indicating utter dislike. Lilith imagined the hell she would be put through if forced to hang out with the pair, and she thought it best to end all pretense of friendliness on the spot.

"Lilith Bloom." Lilith flashed her flawless smile back. "Nice to meet you."

Daphne answered in German with a smug look on her face.

"I'm sorry. I don't understand—"

"Zat iz too bad. I suppoze American girlz don't study foreign languages like German girlz do." Daphne radiated victory. Her sister giggled.

"No," said Lilith, holding her breath steady after the insult. "We only study Martian. In case aliens take over the planet and we have to talk to them. Those of us left alive as representatives of the best human specimen. You know, the tallest, the prettiest, the thinnest kind."

Daphne's face reddened like a beet, the color rapidly spreading to her neck. "Mutter!" she wailed, jabbing a finger at her newly established enemy. Irma opened her mouth, when Alfred let go of his granddaughter's arm and took her elbow.

"My dear Irma...dinner is about to be served, I believe. Shall we?" He covered the awkwardness with his charming voice, and at once, they all moved and shuffled and pulled out chairs and settled down. Lilith promptly found herself seated opposite her parents and in between Daphne and Gwen, who immediately turned and pinched her hard on each side.

"Willkommen to Berlin, Lily," whispered Gwen.

"It's Lilith," she hissed.

"We will make your stay enjoyable," said Daphne.

"Ze German way," finished her sister.

Lilith silently fumed, afraid to lose control and snap at the sisters in the presence of their mother, not to mention her own mother who eyed her suspiciously from across the table.

"Lilith! What took you so long?" she said.

"We were talking. About roses." Lilith forced herself to look serene, as if she'd taken the pills.

"Your luggage is in your room, pup. Where's Panther?" inquired Daniel.

"I...took care of him." Alfred pulled out a chair at the head of the table and sat down.

"You did, did you?" Daniel raised his brows.

They launched into an argument about dog breeds, how whippets were a joke (Alfred's opinion), and how mastiffs were unintelligent clumsy brutes (Daniel's opinion).

To tune them out, Lilith focused on getting food, pouring herself a glass of lemonade, and snatching the apple from the mouth of the roasted boar. As she ate and drank, the noise crawled under her skin. To make matters worse, Alfred Bloom delivered a welcome speech and everyone stood in turn, remembering the late Eugenia Bloom, the very reason for this family reunion. Gabby chatted up a few ladies, ran off, and came back with a bundle of hand-knit sweaters. Money exchanged hands and excited exclamations made Lilith's head hurt. The lights shined too bright. The food smelled too strong. The dishes and utensils clinked and clanked too loud.

Lilith's heart twanged too fast and her mouth went dry. It was too much, too irritating, too chaotic. She badly wanted to run upstairs, lock herself in her room, and stick her nose into The Hound of the Baskervilles, with Panther at her side. She looked up and spotted a skinny boy studying her from the far end of the table, untouched food on his plate, pallid face cupped in his hands. She judged him to be about her age, maybe a little older. They locked eyes, and understanding flashed between them.

He seemed to say, Whoever invented family reunion dinners deserves to suffer...

Lilith seemed to answer, the terrible fate of enduring it every night.

He squinted as if adding, better yet, every hour.

Lilith nodded, a smile spreading across her face.

"That iz Ed, our step-cousin. He iz mute." Daphne's hot whisper jerked Lilith out of her observation.

"He haz no tongue. Zey cut it out," added Gwen.

Lilith balled her hands into fists. "Did they?"

Daphne nearly stuck her fat lips into Lilith's ear, excitedly firing off the next bit of information. "He licked a frozen metal door. In ze winter. Would anyone normal lick a door? His tongue stuck to it. It froze. Zey had to cut it off with a knife."

"Zey tried sewing it back," Gwen interjected.

"Shut up." Daphne made an angry face, and Gwen promptly closed her mouth.

Lilith was pressed between their hot bodies like a slice of bread in a toaster, and she urgently wanted to pop up.

"He hates sign language. He doezn't talk at all," Daphne continued testily. "He flips lights on and off in hiz room, like he iz sending messages to someone. It iz creepy." She threw a conspicuous glance at Ed.

Ed assumed the I-don't-see-you expression.

"How do you know?" Lilith asked sharply.

"We saw it yesterday," Gwen offered. "From our window."

"Hiz face iz so white. He looks like a ghost." Daphne smirked and took a deep breath to gossip some more, when Lilith decided she'd had enough.

"Well, I think he looks rather handsome," she said, and then stood up so fast that the chair fell out from underneath her.

At this point, the floor moved. Or maybe it seemed only to Lilith that it moved, because nobody else noticed anything, buzzing away merrily over their drinks, stuffing their faces with free food and meaningless conversations. Lilith stretched out both arms for balance in a practiced ballet move.

The room jolted sharply. A few glasses tinkled on the table; yet again, nobody took notice. Lilith realized she knew this would happen from the moment she laid eyes on the mansion, a sleepy tomb that woke up to greet the night.

"I knew it," she whispered, and felt the floor come out from under her feet as if the hall turned into a gigantic elevator cabin that descended underground.

Her heart hammered loudly, a cold sweat broke on her skin, and her mouth tasted bitter. She wanted to scream, to get someone's attention. Her parents quietly talked to each other, their heads bent. Lilith knew from years of experience that it was no use trying to tell them. Her grandfather laughed heartily at something Irma Schlitzberger just said. A little girl tugged on her mother's sleeve, demanding more cake. A group of ladies showed off their newly acquired sweaters to each other. People blurred into one nattering soup.

Panther, I need you, thought Lilith, and caught Ed staring at her. He held her gaze and nodded. He felt it too.

The floor lurched one more time as if the elevator stopped. Lilith lost her balance and promptly collapsed onto the floor.