Chapter Thirteen
It’s a relief that he lets me work the rest of the morning, my hands and mind plying furiously on the puzzle at hand. A relief that I can immerse myself in a land of numbers—free from pain and worry and guilt. A knock comes at midday. My heart thuds double-time as I stare at the plain white door.
A tray sits just outside my small room, no one in sight. Did Damon bring this to me? That would make him the servant, not me. No, it must have been someone who works for him. Someone who prepared this roast beef sandwich and fresh potato salad.
Someone who prepared my tea sweet, exactly how I like it.
Instead of eating, I step into the upstairs hallway, listening for footsteps. None.
Only when I’m halfway down the wide staircase can I hear voices. One male. One female. Maybe
