Mayan Moon [ONC2024]

Chapter 4

She woke startled with a gasp. She looked at her surroundings, unsure where she was. Understanding came slowly. She had been attacked. Then, she woke up with Roger beside her; she was wearing his clothes. Disoriented and angered, she had accused him. Roger stormed off, saying something about blood loss. She had taken the juice and lay back down.

Only the far-off sounds of birds welcoming the early spring weather interrupted the silence in the house. Rays of early morning sunshine scattered throughout the room. The serenity contrasted with the turmoil in Claire.

A blanket covered her. I wasn't covered when I fell asleep.

She distinctly remembered being hit. She explored the back of her head with her fingers and found- nothing.

She had no aches, no pains. It was as if nothing had happened at all, but she remembered the attack. The pain on the back of her head. He said something about blood.

On a chair lay her blood-soaked clothing. How?

She stood, the blanket draped on her shoulders, and wrapped herself in it. The morning still had a slight chill.

Shuffling, perhaps out of habit more than any actual need, she made it to the kitchen. "Where's Roger's unfathomable machine?" She mumbled. He should be back from his run, and I don't want to miss the show. She giggled like a schoolgirl.

The Nespresso coffee maker wasn't hard to use. She made a black americano for him and a cappuccino for herself from Paris Espresso pods she liked. I wonder where he is?

The rich aroma filled her and gave her neurons energy. I should tell him it was something I blurted out.

She walked outside, sipping her cup, but the yard where he usually practiced was empty. I know he wouldn't do anything like that.

She waited. Thinking of the last three months. In retrospect, it was nothing like the catastrophe she had imagined on the first day. If she had to have an arranged marriage, she could have done a lot worse. At some point, she wasn't sure when she had gone from utter distrust to reluctant acceptance.

Her cup was now empty, and his was cold, yet no one came. She walked around the house looking for him, then went inside. We need to get going soon, or he'll be late for class. She smiled, thinking of the silent morning rides. He always fidgeted uncomfortably, and every once in a while, she would catch him muttering "dangerous."

She found her phone on the coffee table in the living room, next to a black bank card and a note.

Miss Williams,

Thank you for everything.

Please don't throw my stuff out,

and water the fern every second day.

I'll be back for them once I'm settled.

Please be careful!

She read it three times. What did I do?

She frantically ran back to the main house. She blasted past the security guard not giving her a chance to say a word. She almost faltered as she took the stairs three at a time and hurried into her grandfather's bedroom.

She pressed her thumb on the sensor on the bookshelf as if applying more pressure would make it work faster. After a couple of seconds, it clicked and slid open, revealing a panic room.

She entered and closed the door, then sat at a desk full of monitors. It took her a few seconds to get accustomed to the bright LED lighting. The air recycler whirled.