Page 39 of A Thin Line

“Just my arm.”

“Should you be examined by a doctor?”

“No. I’m okay. You, um…what about you? You have a scratch on your cheek.”

He touched it as if he hadn’t noticed it but didn’t say anything else until he turned at the end of another block, taking us back in the direction of his neighborhood. The farther we went, the more the landscape changed—at first, we drove past business after business, intermingled with high-rise apartment buildings. “Why did you leave?”

I wasn’t about to tell him the whole truth but I could manage some. “You wouldn’t stop yelling.”

“You wouldn’t stop being difficult.”

The landscape was slowly changing to more residential in nature as I spoke. “I agreed to work for you to help my father… I didn’t agree to being abused or yelled at.”

“Abused?”

Although Dr. Rakhimov had had her fair share of yelling fits, I’d always known that, at the end of the day, I had a home to go to. That home wasn’t much to speak of, but my father was there, and it was the only place where I felt safe. In Sinclair Whittier’s cavernous mansion, I felt vulnerable…and alone. “It’s going to take me some time to adjust.”

But, for some reason, I felt like maybe we’d reached a bit of a truce.

For this evening, at least.

Chapter 14

When we got back to the mansion, we walked down the rear hallway without speaking. When Edna hugged me, I felt like a selfish child when she told me she hadn’t wanted to leave for the evening until she knew I was okay.

Maybe she was someone I could trust after all.

“Can I make you some hot tea or—”

“No, thank you, Edna. I’m just going to go to bed.”

As I headed up the stairs, I heard her talking quietly to Sinclair, but I couldn’t understand the words—nor did I care. I was overcome with exhaustion and was finally ready to give in to my body’s demands. Even my stomach had quieted.

When I got to my room, I stripped off my clothing. It felt dirty after all the perspiring I’d done on my walk, not to mention the scuffle on the street. I didn’t want to get between the sheets without washing off, so I drew a quick warm bath and got in while the water was still running.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a bath…and that was my last thought as I shut off the water and leaned my head back against the tub.

When I awakened, the water was cold. Draining the tub, I grabbed one of the fluffy white towels hanging on the rack, suddenly feeling something akin to gratitude. I was glad that many of the small things I needed—like towels and washcloths, bedding, and the like—were simply here without my having to ask. The towel smelled good—fresh and clean—and soon I was dry, except for the ends of my hair that were damp.

After leaving the bathroom, I put on my Hello Kitty nightshirt along with a pair of light gray sweatpants—because now that I’d had a little sleep, my stomach was growling again. I was going to see if I could find something in the kitchen to eat without it being noticeable. Edna had probably been ordered to save my food and serve it to me for breakfast, so maybe I could find it and take a bite out of it—or, if I was lucky, that loaf of crusty bread she’d made might be sitting on the counter.

In my bare feet, I didn’t make a sound. There were no creaking boards underfoot as often happened at the house in Winchester, no squeaky doors. When I glanced back at Sinclair’s door at the end of the hall, I didn’t see a light underneath it, and I knew my ninja-like footsteps wouldn’t awaken him.

I had my phone with me to use the flashlight, but I didn’t want to overdo it. In the dark, the mansion seemed even more foreboding—and yet peaceful somehow. With my hand on the railing of the stairway, I felt confident moving forward in the dark—but, as I got closer to the bottom where the stairway curved, I noticed ambient light flooding into the main hallway.

Was it coming from the kitchen? Did they leave any lights on at night?

I couldn’t hear anything, but I moved forward cautiously. As I got closer to the kitchen, I realized the light was coming from a room farther down the hallway. The dining room was directly across and the room that had light spilling through the doorway was beyond that. If someone were in that room, I could probably sneak in the kitchen without being seen—but being heard would be another thing entirely.

I decided first to peek in that room, if for no other reason to see what it was. I could even turn off the light before finding something to eat.

As I glided past the kitchen, I knew Sinclair would be angry. After all, I wasn’t necessarily breaking a rule, because one of the things I remembered the contract had said was that the “Employer” would provide all meals.

I also remembered that there were some vague sentences about the “Employee” not using things not hers or stealing, and I didn’t know if I ate a piece of bread if he’d consider it theft. Then again, I hadn’t signed that stupid contract yet…so maybe it wouldn’t matter.

It wasn’t until I couldn’t turn back that I spied Sinclair in the other room—and he saw me. He’d seemed to be lost in thought until I arrived.

His smile— yes, smile—was warm, reaching his eyes. “Ah, Ms. Miller. Would you care to join me?” He held up a glass with less than an inch of amber liquid.

---