34. Zola

Chapter 34

Zola

A s soon as we landed, his men had driven me straight to my father’s house and waited around until Detective Hudgens’s officers arrived.

The officers sat me down in the living room and briefed me on the process and how my life would go from now until this trial was over and I entered the witness protection program. I could only blankly listen and try my best not to miss the most important things. I would be protected and given the time to get my affairs in order while they set up a new identity for me. For the moment I would be taken to a safe house.

I began to feel regret from then on.

Things turned even bleaker when we arrived at a nondescript house. It was small and covered by vines and trees and suitably inconspicuous.

I walked in and almost had a panic attack.

I tried listening to one of the agents who had been assigned to around-the-clock surveillance but I didn’t hear a word. I looked around in horror at the dark stained beams of the house, the drab decor, and the musty vomit-colored rug. The dark musty vibe and musty scents of this house were going to compound my misery. It was a far cry from the neat, bright little apartment I shared with Antoine. My face must have shown my distress.

“Are you alright?” Sarah asked.

“How long am I going to have to stay here?”

Matthew and Sarah shared a look before they turned to me.

“Until the case is concluded,” Matthew said.

What? The house looked and smelled like death. I stared at them and felt tears begin to burn at the backs of my eyes. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Right down the hall next to the kitchen,” Sarah said.

I went into it and locked the door behind me. The urge to call Dante was overwhelming, but that would be like going from the frying pan into the fire. Losing Papa was enough heartbreak without adding unrequited love for Dante to my troubles.

Suddenly, I felt exhausted. I went over to the only bedroom in the house, but the moment I opened the door and saw the patterned sheets and the dark room, I found I couldn’t go in.

I returned to the agents. They were making coffee in the kitchen. They looked up at me expectantly.

“Um … Is there anything white in this house?”

“Huh?” Matthew said.

“I mean bed sheets and fabric. Everything's so dark and musty.”

“Oh,” he said and took one look around the house as though he was just seeing it for the first time. “I don’t know. I’ll find out.”

He turned around to take his leave, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t be hearing from him any time soon.

If I was stuck in this house day in and day out with nothing to do it was certainly going to drive me crazy.