Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
ADAM
L ight begins to filter in through the window of the study, illuminating the deep red walls and paintings of trees. Despite sitting on a cushioned rug all night, my back aches. My guess is that it’s around seven in the morning, which means I’ve been sitting here by the fire with Isabelle for approximately five hours.
After she thanked me, Lionel brought her a warm cup of tea. She drank it while I held her, ensuring her shaking subsided. Once she finished the tea, she promptly fell asleep in my arms.
She has been asleep this whole time.
I could have put her back in bed. Or in the chair. Or I could have laid her on the floor and left her.
But I can’t.
I haven’t held or been held by someone in years. And it feels…nice.
Ugh. I sound like my sappy younger brother, Henry.
Isabelle stirs in my arms, and I look down to see her slowly blink her eyes. When she registers where she is, she sits straight up and moves away from me. Reluctantly, I let her go, so now we’re sitting a couple feet apart.
“Sorry, I…” She bites her bottom lip and darts her gaze away from me.
“You don’t need to apologize. I stayed of my own accord.”
She looks back at me. “Well, thank you.”
I nod, acknowledging her gratitude. “How do you feel?”
“Better.” She glances out the window at the falling snow and shudders. “That could have ended so badly.”
“Yes.” I study her, analyzing her status. “Do you need more clothes? Are you still cold?”
She shakes her head. “I feel warm enough now.” She blushes, probably thinking about the fact that I’m the reason she’s warm after her sleep.
She clears her throat. “Coffee! Can I get some coffee?”
I wave over at Lionel, who’s been standing nervously in the doorway. He nods and heads over to the kitchen.
The silence in the air is thick and loaded, but I do feel the need to discuss what happened last night, especially now that she seems to be almost back to normal. After all, I had every intention of apologizing to her until I found out that she ran off. I take in a breath, preparing for the words I’m about to say. “I watched the recording.”
She raises a brow. “And?”
“And…I suppose you were telling the truth. You weren’t in there to intentionally reveal my secrets.”
A smirk lights her face. “Told you.”
I grunt, a little irritated with her smug demeanor. But I know my mother would have expected me to say the next part. “I’m sorry for accusing you.”
Her face is expressionless for a moment. She holds my gaze, then says, “Thank you. I wouldn’t have expected you to apologize.”
I nod once, ready to move on from this part of the conversation. “ But why did you go outside in the first place? You know it’s snowing.”
She heaves a sigh. “I’m suffocating in here. I feel so trapped. And then you were yelling at me, and?—”
“I yelled at you because you were in my office. The one place you’re not allowed.”
“Still, you didn’t have to yell at me.”
She doesn’t stand down, and neither do I. We stare at each other for a moment, heat passing between us.
I may have apologized for accusing her of having malicious intent, but I’m still frustrated she trespassed. “What compelled you to go in there in the first place? I’ve given you everything you need—a place to stay, clothes, food. The only thing I’ve asked is for you to stay out of my office.”
Her eyes flame. “Fine. You’ve given me everything I need to survive. But being trapped here is terrifying. How do I know you’re not a murderer?”
“What?” I ask, a shocked laugh erupting from my lips.
“You’re so secretive! You won’t tell me anything, not even small talk. You literally wouldn’t say a word for two full days. What am I supposed to think?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “The door was cracked, and I took the opportunity to ease my mind. I’m terrified here, and I haven’t slept in four nights. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Yes, you said you were sleep deprived. Why is that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Stuck in a creepy castle with someone who looks more like a beast than a man.”
Ouch.
“But it’s not just that.” She unfolds her arms and looks down at her hands in her lap. “It’s kind of dumb.”
I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”
She fiddles with her fingers for another moment. “My mom died when I was two. I have my sisters, but they’re ten and twelve years older than me. My dad did his best to raise three girls, but I think all of our emotions were a lot for him. When I was four, I started having night terrors. He says I would wake up and not know where I was. He’d try to comfort me, but I was inconsolable. The one thing that would work was playing an old classic musical on the tiny TV in my room. The Sound of Music was my first one, and within minutes I was asleep. Then it was Seven Brides for Seven Brothers , My Fair Lady , Mary Poppins …” She shrugs. “It’s become a lifelong ritual. Every night, I put on a movie and fall asleep to it. And here, with the cell service and Wi-Fi out, I haven’t had that.”
I swallow hard, trying to dislodge the lump that grew in my throat. Not just because I feel sorry for her, but because her story has struck home in more ways than she understands. I can’t let her know what effect this connection has on me.
So instead, I abruptly stand. “Come with me.”
She looks up at me, confused. “What?”
“Come. I have something to show you.”
“Are you going to murder me now?” she asks, her shaky voice betraying her joking tone.
I take one step closer to her, speaking slowly. “I promise I will never hurt you. You have my word.”
She holds my gaze, the tension palpable, then nods.
I turn and lead her out of the study and through the corridors, one turn after another, until we reach a room I haven’t entered in five years.
“You’re welcome here any time you want.”
She tilts her head and furrows her brow, and instead of explaining more, I push the wooden door open and let her walk inside.
“Welcome to the theater.”