And I can’t bring myself to say anything.
In the end, he kisses me and leaves for the day. I indulge in a few more minutes alone at the table before I go and check on Satya. The old woman is laughing with Rosie, and I pause to watch them for a couple of minutes.
“Would you mind sticking around here for a little while longer?” I ask her, glancing toward the stairs.
“Of course not. I love this little darling girl.” She scoops Rosie up and tickles her. My baby laughs and twists around, delighted and ready to play.
“I’m going for a walk. I think I need some exercise. I haven’t really gotten much physical activity lately.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. There’s a gym on the first floor.”
“I’ll check it out. I shouldn’t be long.”
I change into running clothes, strap on a pair of sneakers, and head out into the Fortress. Like always, nobody bothers me. I’m aware that there are eyes all over the place, but I have to remind myself that I’m the Dragon’s wife. I can go anywhere I want.
Including a specific door set back in a quiet, empty hallway.
It’s still there and locked tight when I approach. I keep thinking I should turn around and go to the stupid gym instead. Whatever’s inside that room, I don’t really want to know about it.
But I can’t help myself. I know it’s a mistake when I approach the code panel. “Lady? Are you listening?”
“Yes, Mrs. Cardone, I’m here.”
“Can you pause recording and surveillance in this wing?”
There’s a short hesitation. “You are authorized to make such a request.”
“Good. Great. Do that, please.”
“Very well. Anything else I can do for you?”
“Erase all memory of this conversation and can you make it look like I’m in the gym?”
Another short pause. “Done.”
“Thank you, Lady.” With a shaking hand, I punch in the code beside the door, half expecting nothing to happen.
Air rushes out at me. I stare as the door sinks down into the floor like I’m on some kind of spaceship. There must be a different HVAC system in here because I can feel the wind as I step forward into what feels like an entirely different world.
It’s hot. I notice that right away. Most of the Fortress is relatively cool, but this room is humid and very warm. I take a second to acclimate, staring around at what looks like a room I’ve seen a thousand times in a dozen different houses back home.
Wood paneling. Old photographs. An ancient TV on a shelf. A greenish couch and a thick carpet. My parents had a room like this one back in the mansion, although it was falling apart.
This one feels pristine.
But that’s not the strangest bit.
In the very center is a massive hospital bed.
The man wrapped in crisp white sheets is old. He looks like he’s asleep. There are scars on his face, and his hooked nose is missing a chunk. His left ear is gone, just a strangled mass of tissue left behind. He’s thin, painfully gaunt. Machines whir and beep quietly. A comfortable-looking quilt is draped over his knees, and a pair of thick glasses are perched on top of a paperback novel with the cover torn off.
This doesn’t look right.
No, it seems all wrong.
The voice said someone in here was being tortured, but that old man looks more like some kind of hospice patient.
I take a step back toward the door, but it has already closed behind me. I bump into the metal, making a dull thud, and curse as I smack my head against the frame.
