Even if it breaks me in the process.
ALLIE
“Good morning, baby.” Mass kisses me lightly. I blink up at him, surprised to find he’s holding a steaming coffee. “I made this for you.”
“Thanks?” I sit up and rub my face as he places the mug down on the nightstand. It’s a little past eight in the morning. “I slept in.” I frown as that sinks in. “I haven’t slept in since?—”
“Rosie’s fine.” Mass grins and hands me the monitor. “See?”
I turn it on, fighting back panic, and find Satya sitting in the rocking chair while Rosie plays with blocks on the floor. Satya’s reading a book to her and showing her the pages.
I groan and look at the ceiling. “I should’ve been awake. I can’t believe I slept through her waking up.”
“I got up and took care of it. Then I called in Satya so I could make you breakfast.”
I stare at him in pure surprise. “You got Rosie up?”
“I did.”
“You changed her? And fed her?”
“It’s not that difficult.”
I laugh sharply. “Imagine doing that every single morning!”
“I could if you’d let me.” He leans down and kisses me lightly, brushing his fingers over my cheeks. “Would you like that, wife? If I let you sleep in and took care of our daughter myself?”
I try to picture it. Mass the domesticated husband.
But the voice on the phone last night breaks through the nice daydream.
He’s torturing people here…
“I can handle Rosie. Honestly, it’s okay. You have work to do.”
He kisses me again. “Nothing’s as important as the two of you.” He stands and stretches. “Drink the coffee and come down when you’re ready.”
I watch him walk off, admiring his lean body despite myself. My head’s a mess of worries and reservations, but I force myself to use the bathroom. The coffee really is good too, and the caffeine helps clear out the cobwebs.
Rosie’s happy when I go check on her. I hug and kiss my little girl, but Mass makes me leave her with Satya.
Breakfast is simple. Eggs, bacon, some pastries from the kitchen. He claims to have cooked it, but who knows. It's hard to imagine Mass doing anything with food. We sit together at the table, and he talks in vague terms about his day and the amount of work he’s got to do.
“There’s always more,” he murmurs, frowning slightly into the distance. “Do you ever feel like you’d rather be somewhere else?”
“You did kidnap me, remember?”
He grunts like he actually did forget that part. “You’re still trying to escape?”
I freeze suddenly. He says it so casually, but the words are cutting. Like he knows about my meeting in the solarium. And the dead body in my wake.
“Would you blame me if I was?”
“Not really. I hope you can come to see how this place is good for you. But it wouldn’t surprise me.”
I drink the coffee and move the eggs around. My stomach twists, and I wonder how much I can tell him. I’m so tempted to confess everything and give him the phone. That way, I can be done with this insane game.
But that hidden room still bothers me.
