“Be my guest,” Marion said, her voice quivering.
“I want to go last.” Tristan laughed. “I like the view.”
Charity delivered a faked laugh. Linda leaned in. “Hey, want me to walk behind you? Will that help at all?”
Charity grimaced. “Yeah, it might. If I fall, you can catch me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Marion said. “Sabrina’s a better bet with those man arms.”
Charity rolled her eyes and took the first two steps, then made her steady way up the rest. Linda hurried to catch up, and behind her, she heard Marion and Tristan giggling as they ascended.
Charity’s response to fear seemed to be to get the scary thing over with as soon as possible, and Linda had to admire the commitment. She tried to call up and engage Charity in conversation, but the woman was long-gone ahead of her. Linda walked alone.
As she took one stair at a time, her breath rushing out quicker and quicker, she kept one hand on the wrought iron rail and ran the other along the stone work at the stairwell’s sides. Whoever had built it hadn’t left much space to look at the floor from on high. But it wasn’t the sense of claustrophobia that unsettled Linda as she climbed, and she puzzled over the reason why the stairwell shook her so. Then, it hit her: it was the only place in the whole house that wasn’t made of wood.
She laughed at herself; if that was spooky, she was in for a long rest of the week.
• • •
Linda exited the stairwell through a door that seemed to perfectly fit her. Tatum waited on the top of the roof, and he helped keep her steady as she emerged onto a rooftop made of weathered wood tiles coated in moss. Linda breathed a sigh of relief.
She settled onto a flat area cleared of moss—where the cameraman had set up a space for rappelling—and looked out at the tree line that surrounded them. From up high, she could see the tops of the tallest bent trees, but from her angle, they seemed as straight as Tristan always advertised himself to be. She squinted at the sparse patches of green that clung to some of the branches, while others seemed to have dropped their leaves.
“Make up your damn mind,” she muttered. “Are you evergreen or not?” She shivered in the autumn chill.
Tatum gathered up the cords, which were secured at the roof end around a chimney flushing, and dropped the loose end down the side of the manor. He moved back and forth from preparing the rappels to helping people through the tiny door. Linda leaned back as much as she could against an area of exposed fascia and watched as the man helped pull Tristan through. Charity sat curled in a ball in a tight corner of roof, but Linda didn’t want to bother her after she’d raced up the stairs away from Linda.
“Well, isn’t this a sight!” Tristan said as he unfolded himself and peered out at the tree line.
“It’s gorgeous!” Marion said and did a little jump. Her foot slipped out from under her. She flew forward, catching herself on the flat, dry area of roof. Tristan rushed to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist.
“It’s slippery,” the cameraman said in a monotone, testing the cords.
“You know she could sue the network if she got injured,” Tristan said.
“She cannot,” the cameraman said. “These ladies signed waivers.”
Linda pushed herself off the fascia and took her first glance down the side of the manor. It was a long way.
“Now, why would you ladies go and do a thing like that?” Tristan said.
“To date you,” Sabrina said. “We’re here for you, Tristan.”
“Camera isn’t even on you,” the cameraman said. “No need to bullshit.”
Linda’s gaze darted to Charity. She was shaking even worse than before.
The cameraman spoke into his walkie talkie. “Should I make the scared one go first, Deja?”
The static crackled.
“Yeah, I’m down,” Linda said, stepping forward. She’d take a page from Charity’s book and get it over with while doing Charity a favor. Maybe Charity would throw her one more minuscule bone before the show was finished. Linda presented herself, arms extended.
“Tie me up!” she said.
“Color me impressed,” Tristan drawled. “Let’s go, Linda! So, you got a little sense of adventure.”
“I sure do!” Linda put her hands on her hips.
The cameraman scurried behind the camera. “I’m going to need you two to do all of that over again.”
• • •
Linda and Tristan repeated their lines word-for-word, then the cameraman strapped them up and set them loose. They perched on the edge of the roof, feet teetering half-on, half-off, waiting for the cameraman’s signal.
“Would have been nice if they had someone here for like, safety, or someone who knows what they’re doing when it comes to rappelling,” Linda said.
“That would cost too much,” Tristan said.
“Don’t I know it.”
“Hey!” the cameraman said. “No talking like that. You’ll fuck with the audio track. Don’t make me do more edits than I have to.” He positioned himself to film downward as they went, but he’d also suited them up with GoPros for some close-up, adventure-style shots. “Also, I’m a certified rock climber, I’ll have you know.”
“Okay, okay!” Tristan said. “Can we get this rolling? We’re kind of hanging off the building here.”
The cameraman explained what they needed to do once the shoot began. Then he grinned and held up his fingers: three, two, one. Action, he mouthed, and Tristan looked over at Linda. “You ready for this?”
Linda took a glance down the building at the ground so far below. Deja waited at the base of the manor, hidden in the shadow of a door’s arch.
