Page 24 of Hidden

My eyes go to the door first. I cross the room in four steps and try the handle. It’s locked. The only way into the room is with my keycard and then there’s the alarm system. I had to have one, I promised Dan that was one thing I would have so that he wouldn’t worry about me. The door is locked, and the alarm didn’t go off, so how the hell did the flowers get here.

There’s no note, I can see that from here, but I go back anyway. I check beneath the stems, lift them slightly, and check the counter underneath. Nothing. Just the flowers and the cool, powdery scent of fresh flowers.

My hand finds the counter edge, still trying to work out how they got here. They're beautiful. I wish they weren't. If they were cheap or browning at the edges or the wrong thing entirely, I could pick them up and put them outside my door, go to practice and not think about it again. But they're not. Someone chose these. They stood somewhere and looked at a row of flowers and chose violets. For me.

Rubbing my forehead, I realize I’m starting to get a headache from the flowers. I go back to the door and open it this time.

The corridor is empty. Early morning light shines through the window at the far end, the fire exit sign is there, and a long run of closed doors. I look left, then right, then step out and check the stairwell. Nothing, just the echo of my own movement. I come back and look at the door handle on the outside. The frame. The lock.

No marks. No sign of anything forced or tampered with. I step back inside and close the door.

I set my alarm every night and it’s meant to go off if someone opens the door, so why didn’t it?

A knock hits the door the moment I close it, and it makes me jump.

"Sadie." It’s Juno's voice, muffled, and completely unbothered by the hour. "You up?"

The air comes back into the room and my lungs. I press my hand flat to the door for one second, then I open it.

Juno stands in the corridor in her full kit, her bun pulled high, and her water bottle already in her hand. She’s wearing the expression of someone who finds six fifty in the morning a perfectly reasonable time to be awake. She looks at my face, and her expression shifts by a fraction.

"What happened?"

"Nothing." I step back to let her in. "I just woke up."

"You're already dressed."

"I'm an early bird," I lie. I woke up fifteen minutes ago, and am not ready at all.

"Yesterday you told me mornings were a form of psychological warfare." I smile and turn away from her and drop to the floor for my trainers, reaching for the laces, giving my hands something to do. "Two minutes," she warns me, I need to have a shower, but I don’t have time for that now.

Juno walks away and looks around the place. I’ve not invited anyone over yet, so it’s her first time here.

"Where did those come from?" I don’t need to turn to see what she’s talking about.

My fingers keep moving on the lace as I try to work out what to say. I don’t even know where they come from myself, so what can I say. I could tell her the truth, but then she’ll worry. So, I know a lie will be best.

"They were there yesterday." I pull the knot tight and move to the other foot. "You just didn't notice them."

Silence.

"Sadie…"

"Have you eaten?" I stand, reach for my kit bag, and check the zip. I have steady hands I don’t want to give anything away. I know I have the same face that I use when Coach Pearce is watching me on the beam and I've already made the error and there's nothing to do now but land it. "We should grab something before we get there, or you're going to crash by nine, or I’m going to be moody.” I joke.

"Grounds is open from seven," she says.

"Perfect." I swing the bag onto my shoulder and nod at the door. "Let's go."

She moves toward the corridor, I follow, and I don't look at the counter on the way out. I pull the door shut behind me. Check the handle twice, pull out my alarm system on my phone and switch it on and keep moving, trying not to make myself crazy by thinking how the flowers got there. Yet, I know it’s the only thing I’m going to be thinking about.

***

Grounds feels different at nine in the morning than it does at nine at night.

It’s the same amber light, same mismatched chairs, and same handwritten specials board that hasn't changed since Wednesday. But in the morning, it smells like coffee and something that’s been freshly baked. The people in Grounds are slower, softer, and still assembling themselves into the day. I bet most of them have a hangover from the party last night.

We get a table in the corner as always, and Bree is wearing her sunglasses indoors because she's been up late last night, and she’s trying to hide it.