“Any news from …?” He knows I believe he’s still alive, but Landon wasn’t one of them back then, not like Eleanor.
He shakes his head. “No. Nothing.”
I light another cigarette and take a long pull.
“Then we’d better start digging graves.”
My eyes can barely open. I feel exhausted. Waking up in a bed in a house that is not yours because someone forces you to stay there is more draining than I thought. Another morning that I don’t wake up in my home. Another morning I wake up in this scary place, living under a frightening man’s orders, out of nowhere.
My eyes finally open, and I stare at the ceiling. I don’t want to think of anything else. I’m trying not to give up, but it’s easier said than done. I turn onto my side and curl up like a baby, consumed by my thoughts.
How can I escape this madness? I find nothing more interesting to do here. I mean, what are my choices? Tryon a few clothes and look myself in the mirror? I’m not in the mood. I’m not in the mood to even try to cheer myself up. He says I’m not a prisoner. I suppose I am allowed to take a walk in the garden. What’s the purpose of it? Walk in a garden of a house I loathe and pretend I belong here? Nah …
Then, I hear a knock on the door, which makes me jump in the air and curl up on the bed. What if it’s him again? And what if it’s not? Which would scare me more? I don’t respond. Why have I become such a coward?
The door opens, and my heart is beating like crazy. It’s Eleanor.
“Good morning, Miss Ružicková.”
Thank God.
“Morning,” I barely mutter.
She walks in first, followed by two of his bodyguards, who push two cosmetic stands into the room.What?Then, another bodyguard enters, dragging a stand loaded with hair products and supplies—hairdryers, straightening irons, curling wands, brushes, combs, styling sprays, and mousses. The whole thing looks like it was pulled straight from a professional salon.
“What is all this?”
“Mr. Manson ordered us to bring a few beauty supplies in your room.” Eleanor smiles.
“That’s not a few. That’s an entire store.”
She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “Mr. Manson’s orders.”
I am astounded by the sight before me. Everything is brand new, organized by color, product, and brand. I have never seen so many products gathered all together.
Thebodyguards leave the stands ahead of me and fold their hands in front of their lower abdomens like soldiers. None of the men are Landon or that Bruce. But what are they doing?
“I hope we didn’t forget anything,” Eleanor says.
I get out of bed and walk closer to the stands. “Forget? What will I even do with all of this?”
“It’s yours now, so it’s up to you.” She walks toward the door, the bodyguards following her and lining up right behind her as if to protect her. “Miss Ružicková, will you have your lunch in the kitchen, or should I bring it to your room?”
I hesitate for a few seconds, but not to think of my answer. My mind is completely blank. “I’ll come to the kitchen, thank you.” She smiles and lowers her head. “Eleanor?”
“Yes, Miss?”
“You can call me Katerina.”
She mirrors her smile from before and walks away, along with the bodyguards. I don’t know why I asked her to call me by my name. Maybe I shouldn’t have, because it makes things less … formal. Less distant.
What has he done? Why did he bring so many products when I didn’t even … oh, I asked him. At least, I think I asked him. No, I didn’t ask him; I just mentioned the truth. Why did he do it anyway?
No matter how much I’m trying to stay away, I can’t. I walk closer and check the cosmetics out. I open the lipsticks, spray the perfumes in the air, and try a few eye shadows on the back of my hand. A beautiful bottle of perfume catches my eye. It’s small and round, shapedlike a delicate pink rose. I pick it up and spray a little on my inner wrist. Gosh, it smells exactly like a fresh rose. And just like that, he comes to mind again.
“What’s this?” I mumble to myself, noticing a small piece of paper resting where the perfume was.
I open the paper, and it has only two words written on it.