I’d already resigned myself to another day locked in this room with nothing but old books, the view of the garden and my thoughts for entertainment, when the door opened and he walked in again.
“Come on, I’m taking you to see your sister.”
I literally don’t think I heard him right.But I don’t want to ruin the illusion by asking him to repeat himself.
“It’s real,” he says, as though reading my mind.“Let’s go.”
I’m off my perch by the window and standing next to him so fast I don’t even remember moving.That makes him chuckle, but it’s a strained sound and the smile leaves his eyes serious.
He moves so I can exit the room first but then overtakes me in the long empty hallway.The floorboards creak under his footsteps, but my bare feet don’t make a sound.The wood is much colder than I would expect it to be, as cold as concrete.
“Bet you wish you wore something other than your mourning clothes now,” he says once we’re about halfway down the hallway.
It’s lined with many identical looking doors, which probably lead to rooms that look a lot like my prison.I don’t hear anyone moving in any of them.
“And I bet Chiara will understand why I’m dressed like this.”
We reach a wooden staircase with a gleaming handrail and dark blue carpeting running down the middle.The wool is scratchy, but warm against my feet and for the first time since I got here, I feel hope.
We descend two flights and go down another hallway, this one with fewer doors.He stops at a double-sided one with a brass handle and knocks loudly.
“Come,” a man says.I recognize the raspy voice.It belongs to the monster who married my sister and I’m suddenly very cold again.But hope is still warming my chest.More like embers now, rather than a fire, but they’re glowing.
Matteo opens the door and I let out a breath I think I’ve been holding since he came to get me in my room.
Chiara is sitting on a plush, beige sofa in the middle of the room, wearing a floral print gown which must’ve gone out of style sometime in the middle of the last century.Her long dark hair is loose, hanging over her shoulders and her green eyes are brighter than anything else in the room.
I rush past Matteo and am sitting beside her, hugging her close before I realize what I’m doing.
“Are you all right?”I ask, barely keeping from sobbing.“I was so worried about you.”
“Yes,” she says, not hugging me back.What’s wrong with her?Is she drugged?
“Best leave them to it,” the monster says in his raspy voice and then their thudding footsteps are cut off by the door closing and the lock clicking.
Chiara finally hugs me back, squeezing me tighter than she ever had.
“I’m fine,” she says.“Are you?”
I just nod, holding her tight, unable to speak just yet.
“I’m sorry for the cold welcome.But I’m not showing any kind of emotion to that bastard.”
She releases me, but I take her hands and squeeze them tight.“When did you get so tough?”
I smile at her, and she smiles back, but it’s not an altogether pretty sight.Her eyes are still two glowing green orbs.
“I’ve always been tough,” she says.“You know that.And a good thing too, because it prepared me for this shit.Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
I shake my head.“I just hope Mom and Dad and Lidia are safe.”
“They seem to be,” she says, but then lays two fingers over my lips before I can ask how she knows.
“The less we talk about them the better,” she whispers.“Someone’s always listening here.”
“Well, they didn’t get anything from me,” I say and lean back on the sofa.It smells of damp and dust and is actually hard as a rock.The total opposite of how pretty it looks.Just like most things in this house, it was probably new a long time ago and didn’t get much use since then.“I’ve been locked in a bedroom on the third floor since we got here.”
“Has anyone hurt you?”she asks, piercing me with her glowing green look.
