Page 14 of Nave
The man, Ben, ignored that.
“Leave your shoes out here.”
Dezi shot me aCan you believe this shit?look that I shrugged at as I reached down to undo my laces. Dezi leaned down to do the same, revealing bare feet that made Ben look green.
“Here,” he said, reaching to produce a pair of—I shit you not—those paper shoe covers that doctors, floor guys, and real estate agents insisted on.
Thankfully, Dezi bit back whatever he had to say to that as he slipped on the booties then nearly shouldered his way into the house.
I took one last deep breath before following.
The inside of the glass house was somehow more disarming than the outside. Because on the outside, the windows were mirrored, reflecting back the greenery and sky. Inside, it was like you were inside the forest, but up in the trees. It made me feel a little unsteady for a moment as I stepped in.
Behind me, the door closed with a hiss, then a click as a lock slid into place.
Turning, I saw a little solid red light on the handle, letting Ben know with one glance that the lock was engaged.
Aside from all the views around, I took in everything else.
The white tile floors. And I’d never seen grout so clean in my life. White granite kitchen counters, white cabinets. White stone end and coffee tables. An off-white couch.
And everything inside had a mix of a bleach and lemon scent.
There were several whirring sounds, making me look around to try to find their source.
HEPA filters.
Six of them.
The more I noticed them, the louder they seemed to grow until they were all I heard.
“One at a time,” Ben said, waving toward the stairs that led upstairs.
Dezi gave me a look but followed behind Ben toward the steps.
“Christ,” I said, raking a hand down my face, feeling like a trapped rat in this weird, too-clean house with no fewer than a dozen camerasinsideas well.
“Um, hi,” a soft voice called, making me whip around to see a woman descending the last step where Dezi and Ben had just disappeared.
She was average height and gently curvy, with golden hair and a warm smile.
What struck me, though, was that just like Ben, she was wearing all white: white linen shorts, a white shirt, a white chunky sweater, and a pair of white fluffy slippers.
“Hey,” I greeted, surprised by the punch of desire.
“I’m Lolly,” she said, seeming unsure of herself.
“Nave.”
“Nave,” she repeated, and I couldn’t look away from her mouth as she said my name. “That’s a unique name.”
“So is Lolly.”
“Crazy parents,” she said with a wave. “Can I get you some coffee?”
I was surprised anything not white was allowed in the house.
“That’d be great.”
