“Rosalie?”Mom called.
I drifted down the kind of hall formed by the wall of thekitchen and the fireplace, back through the living room, and up the spiralstairs.
I stopped right at the top.
The ceilings were low, beamed, some of them angled, allpainted that creamy white.
And in a dormer sat a beautiful scroll-backed, king-size bedcovered with white and yellow bedclothes.
None of that mine.
Beck and I had a queen-size bed, and from what I could tell,Chaos had cleaned out our apartment so if he ever got out of jail, he’d comeback to it empty.
Except our bed.
Even as I wandered the bedroom area that covered the entirehouse (outside the sharp eaves that cut into the space, but even so, they madeit all the more awesome), I stared at that bed until I hit the master bath thatwas not enormous but it did have a crazy-cool soaking tub and a double-bowledvanity.
Through that was a walk-in closet that had one wall slantedbut ran the length of the house.The other wall was filled with shelves, rodsand drawers.It wasn’t every woman’s fantasy closet but it was better than I’dhad and would more than do the trick.
“Rosie,” Mom said softly.
She’d entered the closet with me.
My clothes were hanging there.
I opened a drawer to find my panties, closed it and staredat a shelf where my collection of enameled jewelry boxes had been arranged.
“Honeypot.”
It was a one-bedroom house, essentially.
But it had been entirely renovated and it had been thatbeautifully.It had a two-car garage and a huge front yard.It was in a goodpart of Denver.So the rent was probably, but deservedly, crazy.
What could Snap possibly have to give the renters to lurethem out of here?
Mom’s hand fell on my arm and I finally looked at her.
“Are you okay?”she asked.
“That’s not my bed,” I told her.
“I know,” she said carefully.
“He didn’t want the bed I slept in with Beck here,” Ishared.“So he bought me a new one.”
She said nothing, just studied me.
“A reallynicenew one,” I went on.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” she replied.
“Did he do that for me or for him?”I asked.
“I don’t know, honeypot.I’ve never met him.”
Knowing Snap, it was for me, and him getting something outof it was ancillary.
“They repainted,” I declared.
