"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he says.
I can tell that he means it. Every time I look at him, I see something in his eyes that makes me want to trust him.
The circumstances we met under should make me suspicious, but I can't shake the feeling that there's good in him. It's either that, or I'm just trying to make the best of a bad situation like always.
"What time is it?" I ask.
"A quarter past one," he says.
It's not like me to sleep so soundly. Maybe it's another side effect of the drug.
“And Sarah?" I ask.
"I'll take you to see her after lunch," he says.
"Why can't I see her now?" I ask.
"She's located in another building," he says. "This is my private home, and I don’t let just anyone live under my roof."
He pours me a glass of water from a carafe on the bedside table. I didn't realize just how parched I was until I take a sip. I gulp down the whole glass, and he refills it.
"Thank you," I say, wiping the water from my lips.
His eyes flick down to my lips for the briefest second.
"We'll leave when you’re ready,” he says. "There are some clothes for you in the closet. You can also take a shower if you like.”
I nod.
After he leaves the room, I stay in bed for a moment longer.
I glance at the window. I remember the night in vivid detail. The way the stars glittered so brightly, the way I let the fever consume me.
The billowing curtains give me glimpses of bright blue sky. I don't remember the last time I saw a sky this blue. Or maybe I had, but I never stopped to notice it. Fragrant air wafts into theroom, so sweet that it makes me forget about everything else for a moment.
Golden sunlight kisses my skin as I slip out of bed.
I walk to the bathroom and look inside. It’s cozy—complete with a clawfoot tub, mosaic tiles, and potted plants on the windowsill.
Fragments of last night come back to me as I shower.
It makes me burn again. I want to blame it on the purple pill, but I know this is different.
This is allme.
I wrap a towel around my body and head to the closet. Inside it, there's a collection of summer dresses, cotton tops, and linen pants. I go through everything slowly. The stitching on the clothes is immaculate, and the fabric is of excellent quality. But the sight of the dresses makes my chest feel tight.
They're just so...pretty.
My mother always told me that I was too big to wear certain types of clothes. All she ever let me wear were loose-fitting clothes that made me feel frumpy. I never owned anything that I truly enjoyed wearing.
I select a simple white dress. I'm not surprised to see that it fits perfectly. What surprises me is how I feel while wearing it.
I feel like myself in it.
Dante knocks on the door just as I finish getting ready. My hair is still a little wet from the shower. The only makeup I'm wearing is mascara and tinted lip gloss. But when he enters the room, he freezes at the threshold. He stares at me in a way that’s almost innocent.
I study him as he studies me.
