Page 40 of Ivory Ashes

“Your secret’s safe with me.” I zip my finger across my lips. “Thanks, but I can manage.”

Stella was already moving towards the door when I refused, so she has to pull back. “The faucets in that bathroom are finicky. They’re backwards and really touchy. It goes from boiling lava to glacial in half a second. I’ll just go in and show you?—”

“That’s okay,” I say firmly. I tack on a smile at the end for good measure. “I don’t need to wash up tonight anyway. I’m going to go straight to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

Stella chews on her bottom lip like her religious beliefs involve showing me how to run a bath for myself. Like me refusing to let her teach me about shower faucets is blasphemy.

“Thanks for everything you did for us today.” I edge towards the door, never turning my back on her. “You made Dante feel right at home.”

“He’s such a sweet boy. You’ve done a great job with him. I can tell you two have a very special bond.”

Oh, yeah, she’s definitely Mikhail’s secret police. Probably the head of his secret police. This woman is responsible for war crimes somewhere, I’m sure.

Only someone truly diabolical would say something like that to a mother.

Stella wants to make me cry? She wants to soften me up and lower my guard? She’ll have to try harder than that.

“You are so sweet. Thank you.” I yawn again. I don’t want to oversell it, but Stella has got to go.

“You’re sure you don’t need me to help you get settled?” she asks one final time.

“I’m sure. You’ve done enough already. You’re off tour guide duty for the day.” I open the door and Stella looks past me into the room. I have no idea what she’s looking for. Maybe a rope ladder and grappling hook on the bed? But I give her one final wave and slip into the room.

Alone at last.

I stand in the middle of the room, facing the door, for a full ninety seconds. When I don’t hear any sounds coming from the hallway, I start throwing everything Stella unpacked for me into a pile on the bed.

I’m not sure what Mikhail’s staff did with our suitcases. Probably mistook them for garbage and threw them away. I don’t blame them. The wheels were all broken off and mine was more duct tape than fabric. I actually found them originally propped up next to a dumpster.

From trash they came; to trash they shall return.

Unfortunately, that means my only option is to strip the queen-sized bed of its luxury sheets. I pile all of my things into the center and tie up the four Egyptian-cotton corners around one of the wooden rods I ripped out of the walk-in closet.

I give the rod a test swing. It could be a weapon in a pinch. But what I wouldn’t give for the Taser in my bedside table right about now.

Once I have everything packed, I sit on the floor, the makeshift pack in my lap, and wait.

Minutes crawl by. One, two, ten, sixty. And then sixty more.

I’m actually starting to see some of the upsides to meditation. My mind is empty and I am all that is Zen.

Or at least, as Zen as I can be while planning to flee into the night with my son and our scant belongings balanced on a stick bundle over my shoulder like a cartoon hobo. But I’ll take it.

Finally, just after midnight, I tip-toe to my door and crack it open.

The hallway is dim, but not full dark. Most importantly, it’s empty. From here, it’s all simple.

Grab Dante. Run for the front door. Don’t stop running.

It’s a full moon tonight. It will make it harder to hide, but at least I won’t be navigating my way around in the dark.

Grab Dante. Run for the front door. Don’t stop running.

Chanting those words to myself, I step out of my room and creep across the hall. I grab his doorknob and start to turn it…

Just as a hand wraps around my elbow.

I yelp and spin around, simultaneously throwing myself off-balance and sending my closet rod/only weapon skittering off of my shoulder and thunking to the floor.

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