Murder at the Royal Ruby

by Nita Prose

I am just an usher, no one special, at least not yet. But mark my words: one day, I’m going to be a star.

It’s funny, isn’t it? How you can look at someone a thousand times and never really see them—until suddenly, one day, you do.

That’s when I know who did it and that Vanessa was right. The ghost of the Royal Ruby killed her.

That’s the way it works in the theater—wait long enough, and the truth steps into the spotlight.

I’ll tell you right now: one day, you’re going to see my name in lights. And this face of mine? Yes, this one, with the giant purple birthmark on my cheek the size and shape of Australia—one day, this unlikely face is going to be world famous. I may not be beautiful like Vanessa Hargreaves, but I’m going to be a star.

“Containment—an old actors’ trick. Arms by your sides. Put all that energy into your voice and eyes. Don’t move a muscle.”

Vanessa proves what Hamlet always knew: you really can smile and smile and still be a villain.

Homicidium meum secretum. “Murder is my secret.” It is said that when Eleanor didn’t like certain actors, they’d mysteriously drop dead midseason. To this day, the question remains: Did Eleanor have something to do with it?

“I swear, sometimes I just want to loosen these ropes and let the chandelier fall right on top of her stupid celebrity head.

There’s more than one way to become a star. There’s more than one way to shine light in the dark.