I just stared in horror.
Frida stuck her nose against the glass.
“Okay, well, I am showing Miss Jane an apartment that she might share with Eddie,” Jasmine said. “We are in the bedroom. Anyway, have a good day. I love you, Fen-jan.”
Frida barked at the window. It was probably at her reflection, but it sounded like “help.”
Same, Frida. Same.
My phone chimed in my pocket. Once. Twice. And again.
“Oh my. Please answer it,” Jasmine encouraged. “Must be important.”
Answering it was the last thing I wanted, but it chimed again and again—and when I slipped it out of my pocket, a series of texts from Fen flashed up my screen.
Tell her I’m calling back my marker
New marker request
No. Tell her I’m not speaking to her
She’s dead to me
Tell her that!
No. Wait. Don’t tell her that
I take it back
But I don’t forgive her right now
Jasmine craned her neck to peer at my phone, then stood back quickly. A slow smile spread over her face. “Ah, that’s all I wanted to know.”
“Ma’am?” I said nervously.
“Nothing at all. Would you like to come to lunch at my house? I would very much like you to meet the twins. One day when Serj is at work, perhaps. Yes?”
“Um… okay?”
“Perfect. I’ll text you.” She turned away from the window and raised her arms, turning in a circle, while my phone kept chiming. “So, tell me… how do you like this sweet, little apartment? Ideal for a young couple who is trying to find their way in the world, yes?”
Dear lord. This woman was an evil mastermind. I blinked at her, unable to speak, and then stared through the window at Fen. He put his hand on the glass and stared back. So close, yet unreachable. “Yes,” I mumbled, my breath fogging the window. “Ideal.”
“I thought so,” Jasmine said behind me. “Mothers have instincts about these things.”
I wouldn’t know.
Track [19] “Mon Autre”/Juniore
Fen
I checked my phone again, waited for her to respond. It had been six minutes since they left the room. What were they doing, signing a lease? That apartment was occupied last week. I know because I saw movers taking furniture away a couple of days ago, and then the blinds disappeared.
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen inside it. I’d voyeuristically peered into that apartment for months when the couple who used to live there opened their blinds. Not like that. It was just their day-to-day living. Watering plants, a cat that slept on the window seat. Nothing sexy.
I told Mama I wanted to live in that apartment building because it was close to the shop. And looked so peaceful. Like freedom. I could picture myself living there and breaking away from my family. It once represented a future of independence to me.
Now it looked like betrayal.
