Page 17 of Beautiful Deception

“I feel—” I stammer broken words and breathless whispers, “someone was under my bed.”

“Maya,” he calls firmly, “look right here.”

Dr. Kian pulls one of my hands from the mug and grips it tightly while pointing to the floor with his other one. He explains in the most gentle and unwavering way that there is not enough room to even fit a small child under the bed.

It’s only enough space for a broom.

“But I saw—” The memories of the moving shadow wedges between soft kisses of fatigue and the aftertaste of the herbs.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Dr. Kian mouths, taking the mug away as he lays me on his bed and covers my limp body with his duvet.

The wash of his scent lunges down my lungs as my nose buries into the soft fabric. My eyes are closed, but my mind is still racing, regardless of whether there is fuel.

“How long will she be like this?” Remo’s voice hums faintly over a rustling of clothes and the door closing.

“You can’t rush things.”

That’s Dr. Kian’s voice and his hand petting my hair. Their voices are low, and from a distance, it’s easier to pretend they’re a part of my dream and Dr. Kian’s caressing hand is my haven.

“You’re impatient,” Remo says with a tone so full of life, like the splash of red on a white canvas.

“I am.”

I’m not coherent enough to understand them, but the simple existence of their words drives a violent shudder down to the marrow of my bones.

“Is this why you like physics?”

“Isn’t chemistry your forte, doctor?”

The last thing I know is the duvet tucking more snugly around my body.

Chapter Five

__________

Maya

“All the tires are slashed,” the butler announces as he traces his finger over the jagged edges of the cut.

I huddle closer to Junnie as she mutters under her breath about pranks gone too far. I bite my tongue to refrain from telling her about Kimberly or what’s been going on in my room.

It feels haunted. Or, as Dr. Kian says, change makes me sensitive.

I should’ve never come here.

The fifth day’s morning dew decorated the teeth of car tires, burying the windows beneath layers of thick snow from last night’s storm, and the sunniness lusters across the windy snowflakes.

Morning marks a new beginning for the day, and waking up on Dr. Kian’s bed left a sleepy haze that lasted through breakfast. The herbal drink helped with sleeping, but it made my lips swollen when I woke up.

Allergies?

I hiss as my tongue slides over the puffiness. It’s sore and red, and I’m hoping it’s not from a bug bite.

“Hey,” Kimberly notes, her voice sounding off in the heavy silence of suspicion as everyone gauges for the truth with their assumptions. “Where’s that man? The one who got sick.”

“Oh, yeah,” Joe chirps, punching his fist onto his open palm. “Peter!”

Junnie ponders loudly as she scratches her chin, “I haven’t seen him since… honestly, I don’t remember the last time, either.”

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