Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

My hand was crampingby the time I signed every single document, and Conrad had stamped it with some fancy gold ink. About an hour later, he stood and neatly put the papers into a large manila envelope. He slid a white box to me and tapped it. "Put this on and never take it off."

Opening it, I looked at the pearl bracelet.

"Welcome to the Ivory family, Demi." He reached his hand out.

Smiling, I took it, shaking it slowly. "Thanks…I hope I don't screw it up."

"You can't, Demi. You cannot screw this up. Please, don't." He took his hand back quickly and walked toward the door. "I really like you, and I don't want you to get…" He paused as his eyes seemed to darken. He helped me slide the bracelet onto my wrist.

I didn't know what to say. He doesn't want me to get, what? I hoped he'd finish the sentence, but as soon as he opened the door, I jerked back.

It was Bradley, dressed in a pristine white suit with a long coat and matching white bowtie.

Rich people were bizarre. This family ensured their staff matched their aesthetic.

"I'll lead her to her quarters, Mr. Ivory." He bowed his head to Conrad, and something in the small gesture had the hair on the back of my neck stand straight.

"Bye, Conrad," I whispered as Bradley spun around on his heels and waved me to follow him.

"Don't say bye, Demi. Say see you later." He furrowed his brows and watched as I walked away. I didn't want to look forward at Bradley; I wanted to stay with Conrad. Something about him felt safe and normal compared to the eeriness that radiated from everywhere in this house. In my entire life, I don't think I had ever been in a house that was even middle-class, let alone something that would be a mansion like this.

Bradley kept walking so quickly, I basically had to jog in order to keep up with him. His sharp cuts around the corners had my head spinning. Every wall we passed began to get less and less decorated. After what felt like miles later, we paused in front of a strangely narrow door. Punching a code into the keypad, the automatic door opened quietly.

"After you." Bradley had one hand behind his back while the other waved me forward. I really didn't want this creepy man walking behind me, but something told me that was going to be the least of my concerns.

Once through the door, I froze. It was a long, constricted hall, with one single light dangling from the ceiling in the middle.

"This is your room. You need to take those off, and place those on before entering. Main house shoes are not permitted in bedrooms. You must bathe, then report back outside your room in precisely sixty minutes before I collect you for dinner with the family. They are hosting your welcome meal."

"So, I'm officially hired?"

"You begin work tomorrow. They preferred today but realize that would be rushed."

I supposed that meant yes. I couldn't help but do a little dance and excitedly cheer out loud.

Bradley slapped his hand across my mouth, shocking me completely. My eyes protruded with the pressure he placed.

"Are you insane?" he seethed. "You must not have read the contract properly. We do not speak above a hushed tone."

Peeling his fingers off of my mouth, I looked at him and pointed my finger in his face.

"If you touch me like that again, I'll bite your fingers off," I gritted out in a whisper. "I hope you heard me, because I won't repeat myself."

I pulled my shoes off as Bradley backed away and dropped his eyes to the floor. Neatly lining the shoes Raina gave me by the door, I slid on the thick, padded slippers.

Without another word, I walked through the door and it automatically closed behind me. This time my shoes made no sound, the door didn't, and suddenly I began blending in. Finally, alone, I looked around the room. It resembled one of those cruise ship rooms—extremely small with a circular window. I walked closer to the window and saw nothing but dense trees for miles. I must have had a room on the side of the estate or perhaps the back. The bed was a twin, and of course, in all white. And above the bed was one framed image of a pale pink peony flower, which brought me some kind of happiness. Walking into the bathroom, I glanced around. I didn't know how they let the hint of pink slide in from the peony without a full-blown panic attack, but I started to laugh as I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

"They let a brown girl in with jet black hair." I chuckled.

‘I miss you, sissy.'The smile on my face melted as I heard her voice and flung around.

She's not here. She's gone. She's dead. Because of you. You didn't protect her, Demi. It's all your fault.

"I didn't mean to. I couldn't save us both." Tears streamed down my cheeks as I clenched my eyes shut.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." My heart ached as I pictured my beautiful sister. She was older than me, but it was still my job to protect her. Our parents said they'd come get us when the loan was paid off. They said they'd save us. But they didn't. Years passed and they never came. I had to do what I needed to in order to escape.

I had to stop this. If I showed the Ivory family signs of being mentally ill or unstable, they'd definitely fire me. I couldn't lose this job. I could do it for a few years, save up every penny, and then maybe I'd really go to college. I could get a degree and then make a life for myself. Maybe, I could get married. And while I never wanted to have kids, marriage seemed nice. A companion to be with every day. Someone to drain out the racing thoughts and suffocating solitude I pretended I was fine with.

Quivering, I realized that I really needed to get ready, but I didn't have anything to wear. I didn't bring a bag or a suitcase—and the little amount of stuff I had was with Raina. Speaking of, would I get to leave tonight to see her? I mean, this wasn't a prison; this was my employer's home, and I could leave when I wanted to.

The shower was narrow but pristine. Bottles with small labels were drilled into the wall—shampoo, conditioner, soap. This was like a luxury hotel. There was a toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste on the vanity, but none of it had flashy brand labels, not even the toothpaste. It was all in matching cream-colored tubes and bottles with tiny labels of what the product was.

Damn, to have this level of money and time. I smiled and quickly tugged off Raina's outfit, hanging it on the hook behind the door. Turning the shower on, I opened my palm to wait until it warmed for me to get inside.

"Ah," I groaned as the hot water pellets beat against my fatigued body. Sleeping on benches, shitty motel mattresses, and under bridges had taken a toll on my body. I didn't feel nineteen; I felt eighty. Cracking my neck on both sides, I savored the fact that I didn't have to worry about how much this shower would cost me. I didn't have to worry about washing my body in some gas station sink or using a water bottle to splash under my armpits. I could just bathe myself.

Pumping shampoo into my hand, I took a sniff of it—not scented. Rubbing it into my thick, unruly hair, I thought about how Dr. and Mrs. Ivory were probably those people who knew fragrances caused illness and whatnot.

It made sense. It all made sense. Or at least desperation had me colorblind to any red flags.

The thing about everything fitting too perfectly together is that it really means jagged pieces were shaved down to fit so perfectly. It means the rough edges were smoothed down and hidden away.

Because there is no such thing as perfect. And sometimes the more perfect something seems; the more secrets are hidden away.