Page 44 of Hidden Falls

After we arrived, the two men took hold of my arms, one on each side, and hustled me inside the house. I didn’t see anyone else as they took me to an elevator which needed a key to be activated. Finally, they delivered me to a bedroom on the third floor.

They didn’t look at me or say goodbye when they left.

I looked around. The room was the size of the whole downstairs at our house on Maui and seemed set up for a little girl—fancy dolls in international outfits stood on a white chest of drawers, a rocking horse big enough for a carousel occupied one corner, a rug made of fluffy sheepskins stitched together filled the floor in front of the bed. The bed was a four-poster draped in sheer pink lace, and all the bedding was pink satin.

I walked across the soft, springy furs to open a door beside the bed.

The closet was filled with clothes. Tags dangled from their sleeves. I closed the door and opened an adjacent one.

A bathroom, also gigantic. No shower, but a giant tub with a collection of small-to-large rubber duckies along a windowsill and a handheld showerhead. The window was covered in frosted glass so I couldn’t see out.

I peed, washed my hands with soap shaped like a rose, and dried my hands on a towel with pink lace around the edge.

All of this was totally not my thing, but who was I to be picky? I was a prisoner, but at least the cage was comfortable. I’d wait these people out, and when I had a chance, make a break for it, and find a way to get word to my family—to Mom, specifically. She’d be the one who could do something to rescue me.

She must be going crazy with worry. Mom would be pacing around with her gun and chain-smoking on the sly.

Dad would be trying to meditate and drinking too much coffee instead.

I pictured Kylie, going to my empty bed to curl up with her ratty old bear and crying on my pillow. Blake would be searching for me all over the island in his old Mercedes.

A knock on the door made me jump; my eyes in the mirror looked too big, scared. I frowned and scowled until I didn’t look afraid anymore.

Finally, on the third knock, I walked over and opened the door.

A middle-aged woman in a black dress with a white apron embroidered with flowers around the neck and hem smiled at me. “My name is Noella. I’m your personal attendant.”

“What is a personal attendant? A guard?” I kept up the scowl I’d practiced in the mirror.

“No. I take care of you.” Her English was accented but understandable. “But if you do something bad, I will let the men know. For your safety.”

“My safety.”

“Yes.” She gestured out the door. “You may go anywhere you like on this floor, but the elevator and stairs are off-limits. They require a key.”

I peered down the hall. Doors led off on the left, windows on the right. The hall ended and made a turn; I remembered that the whole house was built as a square.

Noella went on. “You can use the library, the billiard room, and the TV room. Enjoy the art gallery. Anything you like.”

“Why am I here?”

She looked worried; her eyebrows pinched up. She glanced down; her hands crumpled the fabric of the apron. “That is not for me to say.”

I felt sorry for stressing her out; it wasn’t her fault someone had dragged me here from Hawaii. “Do you have anything to eat? It’s been a long time since the plane.”

“Dinner is at six, in an hour. Please dress nicely. I will bring you downstairs for the meal.” Something in her voice told me not to be late, and not to be disrespectful by wearing my own, travel-filthy clothing.

“Will I meet the person who brought me here?”

She nodded but said nothing, her eyes still on the floor.

Someone was watching us, and she was afraid of them.

I glanced up, looked around, and noticed a glass dome light in the hall. There was probably one of these things with a camera in it in every room; that’s what I’d do if I had a prisoner.

“Okay. But I want to get some answers tonight.”

Noella did not reply to that. “I’ll see you again in an hour.”

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