I find myself heading into the closet hoping something might fit, and to my surprise, everything is in my size, even the shoes. Slipping on a pink cashmere sweater perfect for my back and a pair of tan jeggings with flats, I take in how small my waist has become. Christ, how long was I gone? One last look in the mirror and I feel like I just might be able to face people now that I’m feeling a little more human.
I open the door and step out into a long hallway. My hands grow cold quickly when I realize I have no clue where I am going. I take a deep breath and head to my left. Luckily after a few minutes I find a large staircase that spirals around to an entryway. My stomach turns as I hear a low voice speaking. I want to turn around and go back upstairs but I push on. Breathe, Savi.
“Must have been about ten to fifteen slashes across her poor back, and she’s such a tiny thing,” I hear Abigail say. “I think you’re wrong about this one Logan—she's as innocent as they come.”
Wrong?
Both heads turn when I step around the corner finding them both in the kitchen. My carrier—I mean Logan—catches my eye, his jaw dropping as he takes me in. I realize he really is a good looking man with his gelled black hair, dark eyes, and broad shoulders. I instinctively lower my gaze—having learned to avoid eye contact from my prior captors. Sensing my reaction is making them uncomfortable, I force myself to look up.
“Savannah,” Abigail says warmly. “You look beautiful. I’m glad you found the clothes.”
Logan pulls out a chair for me. “Hello again, Savannah, you look lovely. I see Mel got her hands on you. Please have a seat.”
I hesitate for a moment but comply. He sets a prearranged plate in front of me with bacon, eggs, toast, and hash browns with a glass of orange juice. My stomach twists but I fight back the nausea. They take a seat on either side of me at the island, sipping coffee and talking about their days. I know they’re trying to act normal for me, but it isn’t working. Frankly it is all a bit strange. I can’t help wondering what is going on here; what kind of place is this? So many questions fill my head, making it ache slightly. I raise my hand and rub where the bump used to be—now it is just tender. I see Logan watching me and his eyes have an odd effect on me; I can’t quite place the feeling.
“You really need to eat, dear,” Abigail says.
She’s right, but somehow I can’t find the will to do so. I just want to cry. Perhaps coming downstairs was a mistake. They continue talking as I pick up a slice of toast and smell it out of habit, It seems fine. The first bite is all right, but the second is quickly rejected. Food and stress do not co-exist in my world anymore. I hear Abigail sigh as she sets her cup back on its saucer.
“Would you like a tour of the grounds now, dear?”
I would, but I also have a ton of questions and don’t know where or how to start. Seeming to understand my dilemma, Logan turns to me with his mug between his hands. “Savannah, I’m sure you must be confused about where you are and what is happening. We’ll get together later this afternoon, say around four. Is that all right with you?” I slowly nod, not sure why he couldn’t just talk to me right now. “Abigail will show you where my office is.” With that he checks his watch and stands. “Enjoy your day, ladies.”
“You too, and I’ll be sure to have Savannah there at four,” Abigail says. When he leaves, she gathers my dishes. “Come dear, let’s go for that tour.” She stops and waves her hand, “First, the kitchen.” It is larger than my entire condo with a view of a lake nestled in front of two mountains. “It is always stocked with food. Please help yourself. If there’s something you want that’s not here just let me know and we’ll get it.” She opens the huge stainless fridge that is packed with everything imaginable.
“There’s always at least eleven people working here, plus those who live here full time, so this is what you’ll typically find.” I shake my head. I’m just glad I don't have to do the grocery shopping. “There’s a wine cellar behind that door if you fancy yourself a glass.” She winks. Wine, wow that was something I hadn’t thought of for a long time, my general menu being mostly water. Suddenly I could almost taste my favorite Chateauneuf-du-Pape. Hmm, I will definitely have to check out that wine cellar. I pull my mind back to the room and note that Abigail is leaning against the marble top island with a little smile on her face, giving me my moment. She continues, “I generally do the cooking. It’s pretty exhausting but it is part of my duties, along with making sure you’re comfortable here.” She smiles again. Another comment that makes me realize I’ll be here for a while and my mind once again fills with questions. I really need to start talking but the wall I have built up for my own protection won’t allow me any wiggle room.