Chapter 8
J
“You did well.”
She glares at me, her black eyes flickering with disgust. I was always worried about Malia, and I still am. She’s a weak link in all of this, and the only part in this project that I have little control over. Once she steps inside that room, she’s alone with Petal, and I have no way of knowing what she will do. I can only watch from the outside, and interfere if necessary. It has to be this way, we both know that.
Malia has clear instructions, but I can never be sure that she will stick to them once she’s alone with Petal. After all, this is a lot harder for her than it is for me.
“I know this is hard for you,” I add, stepping closer. She sways away from me.
We’re standing in the hallway right outside the door to Petal. It’s soundproof, so I know she won’t hear us talking, and I couldn’t wait for Malia to come upstairs. I wanted to fetch her right after she got out of the cell.
A single tear is running down her cheek, and when she sees me noticing, she quickly wipes it away, her black locks bobbing due to the hasty motion.
“Fuck,” she hisses. “This is harder than I thought it’d be. I mean she’s...”
Malia bites her trembling lips, a crease appearing between her eyebrows as she stops another swell of tears from overcoming her.
“She’s so... different,” she concludes. “And yet, so much the same.”
I nod, burying my hands inside my pants pockets to stop myself from any unsolicited gestures of consolation. I know Malia neither appreciates nor wants them. She’s never liked me, and that’s fine. But I need her to trust me, and for that, I need to keep the distance she clearly demands.
“I know,” I respond, catching Malia’s black gaze. “I told you, the first day will be the hardest. She’s destabilized.”
The expression on her face darkens. “You did this to her. Don’t talk as if it were some accident that couldn’t be helped. You did this, and you—”
“Malia,” I cut her off, locking her down with a warning look. “Don’t forget your promise. She needs you. And for this to work, I need to be able to trust you.”
I pause for a moment, letting the words sink in before I add, “And I need you to trust me.”
She bites her lips again, catching her breath before she nods solemnly. “Don’t worry, I won’t fuck this up.”
A sigh escapes her lips and her eyes trail back over her shoulder, resting on the closed, sturdy door before she whispers, “But don’t blame me if I struggle from time to time. This is fucking insane.”
“It is,” I agree. “And you’re allowed to struggle—as long as you comply and stick to protocol.”
She turns around, casting me an exasperated glare. “Can I go upstairs?”
I nod, stepping aside and gesturing for her to pass. “Sure.”
She lowers her eyes but straightens her shoulders and passes me in wide and angry steps, heading toward the stairs that lead upstairs to the main part of the mansion. I let her walk away, my eyes resting on the black dress I told her to wear whenever she’s with Petal. I know she will get out of it as quickly as possible once she’s inside her room upstairs. She hates it and only wears it because it’s part of the contract I made her sign. It’s a uniform, dark, bland and practical, but not comfortable. It sets her in the right mindset: Work and duty. She’s here on a special mission, and I need her to remember that. The dress helps.
That and her sense of obligation toward Petal.
Her steps are heavy and Malia doesn’t even try to hide her agitated state when she closes the door at the top of the stairs. It snaps shut with such a loud noise that it makes me flinch. I shake my head, but leave her be. She did everything I asked her to. That’s all I need for now. If this is her way of handling the situation, fine. She can have her little outlets, as long as they don’t interfere.
I turn, my eyes resting on the door that seals away my most precious possession. Despite being so close to her, I have no way of knowing what’s going on behind that door from where I’m standing right now. There’s a panel with a small display on the wall behind my back, displaying what the camera inside Petal’s room catches, but I haven’t looked at it ever since Malia stepped outside.
It’s only been a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity.
I take a deep breath, preparing myself, before I turn around facing the display behind my back.
I’m on guard. I have been ever since this little project started, always bracing myself for the unforeseeable. Because you can never know. Petal is lost, confused, and completely unpredictable in her current state. It’s exactly what I like about this very unique predicament.
I need to be ready for anything. Always.
Still, I wasn’t ready for what I’m seeing on the display now.
What the hell is she doing?