Pressing harder against the panels, I search, trying to read the grains running through the wood.
Where the fuck is the lock?Why isn’t it here?
The draft is now on the inside of my leg, rising with every second I’m stuck in this darkness.
Then I feel it.In my hair.Against my neck.On the side of my face.
Logic goes out the window, and I scream.
TWENTY-SEVEN
FENRIR
PRESENT
Hayami had been jokingwhen she said I could watch her shower, but there was a split second when I’d hoped she wasn’t.That I might get to glimpse her as she washed that perfect body—preparing it, ready for me to ruin.
She was likely teasing about me standing outside the door, something I considered until I realised how weird it was.Instead, I retreated to the security room, clock-watching her usual twenty-minute shower window, give or take.
Junko’s journal sits in my back pocket, and for some reason, it feels more dangerous than the gun I carry.
What had Junko felt in this house?What was Junko like when she first married Devall?Whatever she was, it couldn’t have been the same woman who walks Devall Mansion now, her face gaunt, her eyes haunted.
I pull the book from my pocket and place it on the desk before glancing at the screen.
Hayami’s room is empty, the bedsheets roughly made, the door to the en suite firmly closed.Flicking open the pages of the journal, I skim-read the next entry.
Day Three
I hate it here.I want to leave.Even in the confines of the sitting room, the only room I seem to be able to tolerate in this house, I still have the urge to run out the door, into the forest, and never look back.
Barrett and I sleep in the master bedroom, the room I feel most uncomfortable in.I’m not sure why this is, but as soon as I enter it, it’s as if the whole room is closing in on me.I can’t breathe, can’t think.It’s as if the walls are suffocating me.
This evening, I asked Barrett if we could sleep in a different room, but he explained that the security cameras were only set up for this one, and it wouldn’t be safe to sleep in a different one, as we’d only brought a scant amount of security staff with us.His response was direct and to the point, as if I were one of the staff.He never asked me why I wanted to move rooms.
We’d just had sex.There’s no lovemaking involved.This is purely practical.He wants an heir.Male.Someone to carry on the Devall name.
Shortly after I married Barrett, I plucked up the courage to ask one of the staff what had happened between him and wife number one, the fiery redhead known as Eileen.It was tricky to work out which staff to ask.Most of them are incredibly loyal to Barrett, I think out of fear more than respect.But there is a maid, Sybil.
She’s small, her back bent, with some sort of skin condition on her hands, which means she has to wear gloves, so most of the other staff keep their distance.But she’s hardworking and has been with the household for years.She makes sure there are fresh flowers in my room, that my towels are soft, and that my bed is always turned down.She even got me a buckwheat pillow when it was clear to her that I was having trouble sleeping.
The next time we were alone, I asked her what had happened between Barrett and Eileen.
She didn’t answer me.So, I told her that I wanted to be a good wife to Mr Devall and that I was a little afraid that I would make the same mistakes Eileen had.
Sybil sighed and said that as long as I followed the rules and was faithful, then I would not disappoint him.
I felt myself blush, then went on to ask about what had happened to her.
Sybil had been organising my dresser, moving things that didn’t appear to need moving, when she told me their marriage was never destined to last.That all the staff knew it the minute he brought her here.
She explained that Eileen was a rare bird, beautiful and exotic, and Mr Devall was the collector.He wanted to own her, possess her, and show her off to the world.But she didn’t want to be collected.She wanted to be free.One day, she was here.The next, she was gone.
I asked if she’d just left, and Sybil simply told me that was what she told herself.The thought turned me cold.
I’d then asked about his second wife.
Sybil recalled that no one knew exactly what had happened, but that she had been with child.Barrett had been pleased and was eager to give her the best care and all the attention she needed to ensure that the baby would be healthy.He took her away to one of his holiday homes, thinking the mountain air would do her good.Then Sybil had paled, her voice faltering, and my stomach sank.I had to press her, which I didn’t like doing, but I could tell there was something she was holding back.
