Page 65 of Glass Wings
“That sounds crazy,” she laughed to herself and then jumped from the echo of the sound of her voice. “I’m fucking crazy,” she continued in a whisper.
She needed to find her phone and get out of there.
Hadley pulled the stopper out of the drain and watched the water descend until a small whirlpool formed. She stayed there for a few moments, sitting in the empty tub, cradling herself before standing and walking out onto the marble floor in a near zombie-like state. She grabbed a fluffy white towel and held it to her face, patting it dry and taking in the smell of the lavender fabric softener.
It was very nice here. She could happily lock herself in this bathroom and never come out. The peace she felt at that moment was alarming. Nothing that had happened in this house had ever been as it seemed.
Wrapping the towel around herself, Hadley walked towards the double doors and put her hand on the matte bronze handle.
“There is no one on the other side of this door. Your clothes will be on the bed,” she muttered out loud, hoping to manifest it true.
When she walked out into the primary suite, she was relieved to find it was indeed empty. It was a large, open room with a California king-sized bed bracketed by matching side tables. A large vintage trunk lay on the floor at the foot of the bed, and draped over it was a dress with a folded tan piece of paper on top.
She thought it best to ignore that momentarily and walked over to the large windows, looking into the backyard. She thought that maybe she could make that jump if landing directly on the extended brick patio somehow wouldn’t deter her. She guessed that in a desperate situation, it was good to have a backup plan.
The plush nude carpet in the room sank under the weight of her still-wet feet as she moved back over to the bed and ran her hands over the rich, silky burgundy sheet set folded perfectly into the matching duvet. She sighed, realizing that her clothes were nowhere to be found after scanning the room a few more times, before giving up and going over to the dress.
She picked up the note, unfolding it while the sound of crinkling paper filled the air.
A new dress for a new life.
Sheng had signed the note, and Hadley felt her blood rising at his name. He touched this paper. His smell was still on it. She held it to her chest, pressing it there as if trying to capture it in her heart.
This note was from her husband. She had a husband.
Hadley giggled like an innocent schoolgirl and jumped up and down a few times, smiling like an idiot.
Idiot. Wait. That’s right. She was acting like an idiot.
Hadley’s brain took back its authority, and she crumpled up the paper in her fist. She had been drugged, forced into marriage, and had her body violated in numerous ways in front of a cult-like audience.
Fuck him. Fuck Sheng.
Hadley picked up the dress and threw it angrily on the ground, kicking it around the floor.
“Where the fuck are my clothes?!” she yelled, hoping someone would hear her. Her phone and the envelope with the money were both in the pockets of her jeans. She would not sit here, isolated and compliant. She was a survivor, not the weak link.
Hadley jumped, startled by a sudden knock coming from the opposite side of the main bedroom door. She dropped to her hands and knees to hide behind the giant bed, because that seemed like something a survivor might do.
There was only silence, with no audible turn of the door handles. Hadley counted to eighteen before the knock came again.
“Miss Hailey or Hadley,” said Amis’ muffled voice. Hadley stayed there, unmoving, until Amis knocked again.
Could he not just go away?
“Hadley, there is a guest at the door for you. It’s the kid who dropped you off.”
“Hector.” Hadley stood up. “Hector is here for me.” Relief and hope flooded through her body, and she felt her eyes tear up again.
“I can . . . I can just see him?” Hadley gulped, yelling towards the door.
“Of course,” Amis scoffed in reply. “This is your home. We all now work for you.”
Hadley considered this, wondering if her fear was misplaced. Could this be an opportunity she stumbled into?
No, her anger and grief were more than appropriate.
“I’ll be right out,” she decided, grabbing the dress and shoving it over her head. She practically ran towards the door and flung it open to see Amis standing there, looking at her, slightly amused.
