Page 35 of Nave
We’d discussed this. At length.
We talked about how peaceful the woods were, how nice it would be to get away from the lights and sounds of town.
I guess I just imagined a ten-acre plot or something. With neighbors, if not in screaming distance, at least close enough to see flames if a fire broke out.
And while I was no expert, it felt like we were hundreds of acres away from anyone else.
The trees closed in around the big glass house.
Instead of comforting, it felt… menacing.
I shook those thoughts away and plastered a smile on my face.
“It’s exactly how you described it.”
That was at least true.
The problem was that in my mind, I’d romanticized it. I’d softened out the sharp edges; I made it feel cozier, more home-like.
“Wait… is there only one staircase?” I asked as we toured around the space.
“Yes.”
“Isn’t it the law that there needs to be two exits, though?”
He looked quickly away at that, then shrugged. “It wouldn’t look as good with two exits.”
At the time, I couldn’t hear the lie in his words. It would take many months for my ear to adjust to his half-truths and full fallacies.
I just took him at his word.
I just tried to muster up some excitement as we made our way up the stomach-droppingly steep stairs toward the side door, figuring that the inside would be warmer, more inviting.
“Wow, what is that noise?” I asked, hearing this loud whooshing sound as soon as the door opened.
“The HEPA filters.”
“Multiple?”
“I have allergies,” he said, nudging me inside.
Confused by that, I looked back, watching the way he watched the door close, then listened to something click, and, finally, a red light flash on.
For reasons I didn’t even try to analyze, my heart dropped at that moment.
I put it out of my mind, though, as he led me through the cold, sterile space, trying not to sound disappointed when each time I made a suggestion to make the space cozier, he immediately had a reason that it was a bad idea or it couldn’t be done.
“We’re still not going to share a room?” I asked after he showed me his room. Well, he showed me the door to his room. Which he kept shut and locked. I knew because it was another door with a red light on it.
“We’ve discussed this, Lolly. Don’t be difficult.”
I bristled at those words, but chose to tamp down my hurt feelings as he led me to my room. I had a door. But no lock. Not even on the inside.
My personalbathroomdidn’t even have a lock.
“Settle in,” Ben said. “I have to shower the woods off of me.”
I turned and watched him go, closing the door behind him.
