ARRIVAL (ERA 1)

19 | the Hidden Room

"It's been a whole week, William. That's all I'm saying, honest." I groan between bites of my cornbread muffin.

            "Oh, a WHOLE week? My apologies. I didn't realize you had suddenly become an expert on the matter," William mocks me.

            He shuffles around the counter and continues to gear up, zipping his leather bomber. "Forgive me; I hadn't been aware that it's been a whole week."

            "That's not what I meant." I frown, touching his arm. "Come on, all I'm saying is–"

            "No. Stop. I know exactly what you're saying, Ev. Just because you hear a story, it makes you automatically qualified to presume you know everything." He yanks free from my grip.

            I stare into his face, his deep caramel skin and piercing blue eyes. Sadness is present, overwhelming his other still beautiful features. It's rare I see this side of him. I reach again, placing my hand on his arm.

            "If you would just be willing to–" I begin.

            "Be willing? BE WILLING? You're one to talk, Evelyn. Always lying. Always guarding your secrets." His voice is hoarse, but loud. He is only inches from me.

            I jump back. "That's different and you know it, Will." He looks away from me, but I press on. "I'm not interested in your secrets, I'm only asking that you trust me."

            "How can you ask that of me, when you have so clearly placed your trust in no one but yourself?" He asks harshly.

            "You need someone to–"

            "Charlotte had no right to tell you anything. No right at all. Just stay OUT OF IT!" William yells. He turns and storms out of the kitchen.

            "FINE!" I shout after him but I know he cannot hear me.

            I watch the heavy door slam shut.

            It's been six days. William has not talked to me, or to anyone for that matter. Charlotte insists he needs more time to settle down. I on the other hand, am doubtful. He feels exposed, vulnerable, and all I want to do more than anything is help him.

            But it seems I'm the last from whom he wants help.

For almost an hour now Adara has been occupying the privacy room. I stare at the tarp that hangs from the rafters. The curtain surrounds a single bed with its own medical supply cart and tiny washing basin.

            Almost every Garner has been in and out of the privacy room. William even stopped by for about five minutes before something spooked him. There have been too many bodies in the Refinery to get any real work done. I have a stack of unfinished reports, but Adara hasn't been asking for them. She's preoccupied.

            Adara chose a name for the baby boy. Cole. Perhaps she's hoping to have a child of her own one day –or maybe even be Cole's reassigned mother, a hard picture to imagine.

            As for me, I am preoccupied as well. One thing is on my mind like white on rice: getting back into the washroom, undetected. The hatch has been haunting me since I first saw it. Or felt it.

            "Why are you pacing? What are you doing?" Adara is standing over me.

            I look up. "Nothing, I was just–"

            "Everyone needs to help out. Make yourself useful, if you can manage that."

            "There was nothing for me to do, so–"