Fantastic Hearts and When to Trust Them (2)

Taken In

When Celia woke around seven—sleeping in, for her—nothing was amiss. By eight she'd finished curling her hair, applying her makeup, drinking her coffee, and had composed half of the letters she was writing home. It wasn't until nine-thirty, when she left her room with a book and an intention to read somewhere in the sun and breeze, that she noticed the air of anxiety permeating the halls.

The owner's son stood at the desk when she reached the lobby, and glanced up the moment he saw her. "Ah, Miss Green, isn't it? I'm sorry but we're closing the hotel until further notice. We'll refund you for the rest of today and however long your stay was supposed to be, but we'll need you to gather your things before noon."

Celia's eyes popped open. This was the least expensive hotel that did not have insects crawling between its covers. "But why, Mr. Cadwell?"

"My mother went out this morning to buy the eggs and never came back," he said shortly, agitated. "I've got bigger things to worry about than running her place."

Frost snuck around Celia's bones. "She's disappeared?"

Mr. Cadwell rubbed his eyes with one hand, still absorbed in the efforts of finding out how much money the hotel owed her. "Yes, Miss Green, she has disappeared. I am sorry, but I have a lot of work to do. I'll have your refund by the time you leave."

Hastily, she nodded, and turned back toward the stairs. "Of course. I'm sorry." She stepped back up the stairs to gather her things.

Celia had to bring her suitcase to class, having not found a place she wanted to stay by noon. She had found places she could afford for a night or two, in desperation, but she by no means wished to do so. While she would rather risk her pocketbook's health than her own, her health she could wheedle into a swifter return than that of her wallet.

Madhavi's brows snapped down when she spotted Celia lugging her suitcase. "What happened to you?"

Celia hauled the suitcase into a corner where it would be less obnoxious than in many other corners. "There's some sort of trouble with my hotel's owner; they've closed for the time being."

Madhavi rubbed Celia's arm as she tied on her apron. "I'd offer you to stay with me if my own hotel wasn't a closet with a pillow and a toilet."

"Tell me the prices and maybe I'll move in anyway." Celia winced, her left hand throbbing.

Judging by the price, either Madhavi was being robbed or she had a different experience of closets than Celia did, but she appreciated her information.

Even with Tina's reassurance, Celia did a double take when she spotted Leon at the back of the classroom.

"Turns out Leon was sick yesterday," Madhavi informed her. "He promises it was only a bit of a sniffle, but since we work with food he didn't want to risk it."

"Speaking of food," Celia said, "do you never bring yours home with you? What do they do with it when you leave it?"

"They didn't tell you?" Madhavi asked. "If you leave it to be baked or leave it in that cupboard, there, Mr. Brandish will go through and approve which ones can be sold at a discount in the school bakery. Since we're only students they sell them at a discount, and we get fifty percent."

"That so! Well I'm afraid my friends are going to see a decrease in baked goods, then." They still hadn't finished the Bakewell tart, and it had been two days—plus they now had the baklava—so she doubted they would mind. Perhaps just one serving for everyone would be enough.