It’s not enough. He checks the trash. He checks everything.
"Ivy?"
His footsteps are coming closer. He’s crossing the living room. He’s heading for the bedroom.
I flush the toilet. I turn on the tap. I splash cold water on my face.
"In here!" I call out. My voice sounds thin, reedy.
I grab a towel and dry my face. I look in the mirror.
I look pale. My eyes are wide, haunted.
Pull it together. You are an actress. You fooled Kane. You can fool him.
The door handle turns.
Locked.
He pauses. I can feel his irritation radiating through the wood.
"Why is the door locked?" he asks. His voice is right there. inches away.
I unlock it.
I open the door.
Silas fills the frame. He is wearing a charcoal suit, no tie. He looks impeccable. Powerful. Dangerous.
He looks at me. His blue eyes sweep over my face, scanning for threats, for lies, for secrets.
"You’re pale," he says.
He steps inside, closing the door behind him. He crowds me against the sink.
"And your heart is racing," he adds, holding up his phone.135 BPM."What happened?"
"I..." I swallow. "I felt sick."
"Sick?" His eyes narrow. He reaches out and places his hand on my forehead. His palm is cool, rough. "You don't have a fever."
"I ate something bad," I lie. "Those gummy bears. I think the sugar... it was too much."
He studies me. He looks at the sink. He looks at the trash can.
My heart stops.
If he looks in the trash...
"You went out," he says. "To the bodega."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you ask the staff?"
"I wanted to walk, Silas. Is that a crime?"
"It is if you're sick," he says.
