Page 59 of Captive of the Crime Queen

I'm not exactlyin a hurry to give Aurora her mother's message, to tell her that Sylvia scampered off without bothering to say goodbye, so when I check the cameras to discover Aurora's location, I take my time. And then I walk to Aurora's room much more slowly than I normally would. And when I arrive, I pause for a moment.

This is my house. And Aurora is my captive. But she's more than that now, even I have to admit that. And she deserves at least the impression of privacy.

So I rap my knuckles gently against her door instead of just walking straight in. "Aurora? It's me."

No response.

Alright, I've been as polite as I'm going to be. I turn the handle and step inside. Aurora stands by the shuttered window, her back to me. She doesn't turn, doesn't acknowledge my presence.

She's in a set of fluffy pajamas that are a little too big for her, and for some reason, it makes my heart ache a little to see the wayher cuffs pool over her feet, cover her hands, leave only her toes and fingertips on show.

She looks so small. So fragile.

I clear my throat. "I'm sorry, but your mother had to leave. She asked me to tell you she loves you."

Still, Aurora remains frozen in place, staring at the window as though she can somehow seethroughthose metal shutters on the outside. An uneasy prickle runs through me at her uncharacteristic detachment.

I take a cautious step forward. "Aurora…did your mother say something to upset you before she left?"

Finally, she turns to me, her gaze guarded. "I just..." Her voice trails off and she looks away, looks at the shuttered window again.

I've never seen her like this—so closed-off, reticent. Aurora has always worn her heart on her sleeve, open and earnest even in her defiance. This…this unsettles me.

I wet my lips. "If your mother?—"

"She told me that she was the one who set it up. The kidnapping," she clarifies, finally turning to meet my eyes. Those clear blue eyes of hers are steel now, hard and cold. "She hired you to take me. She thought she was saving me. She doesn't think that anymore, though."

I stand very still. Hearing her speak so plainly of her own kidnapping jars me. Makes it impossible to gloss over the ugly truth with pretty euphemisms.

An unfamiliar heat creeps up the back of my neck. I drop my eyes from hers, fixing them on the cream carpet. "She asked me never to tell—" I stop myself. What difference does it make whether I kept my word to Sylvia Verderosa?

The fact remains that Aurora is here against her will.

I force myself to look at her again. "I'm sorry. Truly. I never meant to…hurt you." The last words come out hoarse. I'm not used to apologizing, and I'm even less accustomed to thinking I might have been wrong about something. "And it wasn't just your mother's request that made me…" Well, that's not any better. I change tack. "I know what my brother is like. And I agreed with your mother—giving you up to him would have been unthinkable."

Aurora presses her lips together and I can see her retreating back into that walled-off space, shutting me out again. She turns away, presenting her shoulder. "She was trying to protect me, I suppose. In her own misguided way. Just like you."

Does she meanIam misguided, too?

I yearn to reach for her, to turn her back around and reconnect. But there's an ugly, roiling part of me that wants to remind her she should begratefulto me. And I'm not sure which part of me would win out if take her in my arms right now.

"Why don't I have Mrs. Graves bring you something?" I suggest in a strangled voice.

Aurora shakes her head, her dark blond waves swaying with the motion. "No, thank you. I think I'd just like to be alone for a while."

My heart sinks but I nod. "Of course. I'll leave you be." I turn to go when her soft voice stops me.

"Hadria?"

I glance back, hope fluttering in my chest. "Yes?"

She meets my gaze again, some of the hardness gone. "I just wanted to say...thank you. For taking me away from there. From him."

It's exactly what I wanted to hear her say, just a moment ago. But it feels wrong. It feels all wrong, and I don't know why.

She stares down at her hands as she picks at a non-existent loose thread on her pajama pants. "I know I didn't have a choice in coming here. But strange as it sounds, you were the answer to my prayers."

I blink at that, certain I've misheard. "Your…prayers?"

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