Goldilocks Forever

Chapter 22

Santa Monica, California

March 2006

George threw his binder onto the desk. Anna startled and looked up from the papers she was filing. She was about to admonish him when she saw his face.

"What did you do?" He spoke firmly, giving each word equal weight.

"Huh?" She gaped at him.

"He wants a meeting with you. I hope you haven't done anything to displease him." His mouth firmed into a solemn line and his brows cast a threat in his eyes.

"I haven't done anything and that's the problem. I'm supposed to be getting the violin restored, remember?" George insisted on having her complete menial tasks and she was convinced it was just so he could keep her nearby, under his watchful eye.

He grumbled something. "Fine. We'll take it to the expert tomorrow morning before your meeting with Sabian."

"It's about time." She sank back into her seat and imagined playing the violin. She missed music fiercely. Was it the lack of it that made her feel as though she were living only a fraction of a life? 

She wondered what Sabian wanted with her and hoped the meeting was about the violin. He seemed somehow moved when he walked in on her playing that night. Lydia said he loved music. Maybe he would let her play on a regular basis and she could have more music in her life again.

George's mouth hung open when Anna descended the stairs the next morning, the violin swaddled in her arms like a newborn. "You're going like that?" He surveyed her outfit as she took each step one at a time, careful not to fall and damage the instrument.

She wore one of Casey's trendy skirts and belly-grazing shirts with a fitted jacket and ballet flats. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail and she'd put on extra coats of mascara and lipstick. An oversized pair of sunglasses completed the look. At the last minute, she grabbed a leather handbag to carry some of the money she'd been hoarding, just in case.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she gave George a pointed look. "What?" It wasn't what she'd normally wear, and that was the point. She felt she needed a disguise for this mission, like it wasn't okay to go out dressed as herself.

He blinked a few times. "All right. Let's go. I'll explain the rules to you in the car."

More rules? She groaned and rolled her eyes at him.

He pointed a finger over his shoulder. "Don't get fresh with me. We'll be interacting with the Aging. It's very important that you--"

"Yeah, yeah. Got it."

He held the car door open for her. "I'm serious. I'll do all the talking. You just keep your mouth shut unless necessary and remember that Sabian's name is not to be spoken out loud."

"Like Voldemort." She smirked as he came around the car and got in next to her.

"What?" He turned the key in the ignition. "This is no joke—"

"My name is Anna Bertram, by the way." She fastened her seat belt.

George's frown tilted up, an almost smile. "Where'd you get Bertram?"

"Off a mailbox somewhere."

The memory came back in pieces over time, but now Anna recalled most of it like one scene from the movie of her life. She remembered the farmhouse, so isolated that its inhabitants left the doors unlocked. She'd crouched behind some bushes, watching as a woman carried laundry baskets full of bed linens to a backyard clothesline. She pinned them up to whip in the frigid air and sunshine. When the woman drove down the long driveway to leave, Anna ran into the house through the backdoor.