Shift

TWENTY-ONE.2

The thing Kayden hated the most was that she couldn't get away.

When things got a bit too heavy at home, she'd simply leave. She was never gone for long—typically an hour or so to vent in the open air—but it was the best way for her to cool down after a fight with her parents.

She had contemplated leaving Le Lieu. She wanted to throw open the wide French doors, stomp across the expansive lawn, and scream at the smoggy night sky. But as much as she hated to admit it, she didn't think she'd be able to stand the stomach pain—even though it was tempting to hurt Blaze in the process.

So instead she paced down the hallways, digging her heels into the carpeted floor while wishing various forms of torment on Blaze for what he had called her. When she grew tired of staring at the same stretch of Grecian wallpaper and camel-colored carpet, she rode the elevator, hitting the 3rd and 4th floor buttons in alternation. Whenever someone would enter the elevator, she would hang back and ride with them up or down a floor or two, but as soon as they had left, she would reach out and rest her fingertips on the glossy buttons. She stared into the mirrors that lined the lift as she was carried up and down between floors; they made it look like she was a mere copy among millions.

With such a limited range of motion, she eventually grew sick of pacing the same hallway and staring at her splotchy reflection in elevator mirrors. She withdrew back into Room 495 after only a half hour. Her mother was in the kitchen, boiling hot water for some nighttime tea. She seemed surprised when she saw Kayden slipping back inside.

"Where have you been?" she asked, more curious than concerned. Then, after an additional thought: "Is Blaze with you?"

"I just went for a walk. And no."

Her mother's lips pressed against each other. "Are you all right, Kayden?"

"Yeah," she lied. "Just nervous for tomorrow." Her face had cleared up considerably in the past thirty minutes: no more red blotches, swollen eyes, and damp lashes. It made it so much easier to lie.

Her mom gestured to an assortment of teas laid out on the small counter. "Chamomile, lemon, or raspberry? It's all decaf."

"None. I'm just going to go to bed."

"So early?"

"I don't feel too well."

Her mom frowned. "Lexi said she isn't feeling well either. She started feeling panicky again. I told her to take some of the medicine the doctor prescribed her, but I don't know if she did." She left her kettle and walked towards her daughter, setting her thin hands on Kayden's shoulders. Then she leaned in and gave her a soft peck on the forehead, touching one of the braids in her hair. "Get some sleep and things will be better in the morning. Everything goes back to normal tomorrow."

I don't know if you're right about that, Mom, Kayden thought, thinking of the way Blaze had yelled at her. But she just nodded. "Thanks. Good night."

Kayden used every ounce of willpower to still her shaking hands as she walked into the bedroom she shared with Blaze. She knew she needed to maintain her calm and keep her mouth shut just long enough to change into pajamas and crawl into bed. But her caution was for nothing; Blaze wasn't in the room.

She scrunched her nose and ran a hand over her stomach; there was no pain. She checked her wrist for good measure and the symbol winked at her from her pale skin. He's somewhere in the hotel, she figured. He must have slipped out while she had been playing with the elevator.

Kayden felt a surge of relief as she reached for the chocolate on her pillow. But she paused as her fingers wrapped around the shiny green foil.

Beneath the chocolate was a small, folded piece of white paper.