crude gesture at the owner of that elegant voice, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.
“A pretty fancy, but impossible. A child could never…” Gaelith’s voice faded away. She must have been moving.
Face hot, Fen turned and hurried toward her room.
A curiosity.
Like, what, some lower-class zoo animal? A tattooed sideshow freak?
Safely in her room, she leaned against the door and took a deep breath. Someone had been in the room while she was out. The bed, already made, had been perfected, sheets and light coverlet drawn taut, not even the hint of a wrinkle disturbing the smooth surface. She knew without looking that the adjoining bathroom would be spotless.
It was creepy.
She felt an urge to bounce on the bed, to go into the bathroom and spit in the sink, messy toothpaste spit, and not rinse it down. Something, anything, to break the perfection.
But she didn’t.
Instead she placed her crystal on the dressing table and sat on the stool in front of it. She stared at her reflection in the mirror but she wasn’t seeing herself. She was remembering her mother, her beautiful mother, laughing, happy, soothing, sweet, one day taking her on adventures to the park, watching her do her homework, cooking dinner—and then ranting and raving, delusional, hallucinating.
Was that going to happen to her?
Covering her face with her hands, Fen took a deep breath, fighting the desire to cry.
She couldn’t think about this now. She didn’t have time for it. She was supposed to be getting dressed for lunch, to sit at a table with Kaio and his snobby sister, and not—definitely, seriously, really not—ask any stupid questions.
She stood, crossing to the wardrobe, and pulled open the door. Her mouth dropped open. The wardrobe was full. Next to the simple cotton dresses Eladio had found for her hung several others, plus skirts and blouses, a lightweight jacket, pants, even a lacy cocktail dress.
“Shit,” she said out loud, staring at the clothes in shock. “How long does he think I’m staying?”
There were even shoes. Three pairs of sandals, black flats, and a pair of elegant, high-heeled pumps that she’d never manage to walk in. She bent and picked up the pumps. Her size with a name that sounded vaguely familiar and seriously expensive.
She looked at the dresser. Delicately, as if they might bite, she pulled open one drawer after another. Underwear. Pajamas. Tank tops and t-shirts. Shorts. Lightweight sweaters. Cotton capris. Enough clothes that she wouldn’t need to wear the same outfit for a month.
She dropped down onto the bed.
What was she doing here?
So Very, Very Nice
Fen paused in the doorway of the dining room, nervous about entering.
She was not going to panic.
She was not going to make a fool of herself.
She was not going to blurt out anything truly stupid.
“By the way, are you from outer space?” would never cross her lips. Never, never, never.
But her heart was racing as she stepped into the room.
Kaio rose from the table immediately, as though he’d been watching for her. Luke, seated on his left, followed him and—much more slowly—so did a woman seated on his right.
“Luke?” Fen exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Doc said I could start coming down for meals,” he answered, grinning at her. “I’m doing great.”
Fen forced her feet to start moving across the room to join them as Luke pulled out the chair next to him. The table was covered in a white cloth, set already with plates of patterned china, ornate silverware, and sparkling glass goblets, all looking far more formal than the casual meals Fen had been eating in the breakfast room.
How the hell was Luke so much better? She’d seen him that morning. He’d been pale, hollow-eyed, suffering while he waited for his next dose of painkillers.
“Are you guys aliens?”
Oh, shit.
She’d said it out loud.
Luke’s eyebrows shot up, Kaio hid a smile, and the woman said, “Aliens?” in a voice that
“A pretty fancy, but impossible. A child could never…” Gaelith’s voice faded away. She must have been moving.
Face hot, Fen turned and hurried toward her room.
A curiosity.
Like, what, some lower-class zoo animal? A tattooed sideshow freak?
Safely in her room, she leaned against the door and took a deep breath. Someone had been in the room while she was out. The bed, already made, had been perfected, sheets and light coverlet drawn taut, not even the hint of a wrinkle disturbing the smooth surface. She knew without looking that the adjoining bathroom would be spotless.
It was creepy.
She felt an urge to bounce on the bed, to go into the bathroom and spit in the sink, messy toothpaste spit, and not rinse it down. Something, anything, to break the perfection.
But she didn’t.
Instead she placed her crystal on the dressing table and sat on the stool in front of it. She stared at her reflection in the mirror but she wasn’t seeing herself. She was remembering her mother, her beautiful mother, laughing, happy, soothing, sweet, one day taking her on adventures to the park, watching her do her homework, cooking dinner—and then ranting and raving, delusional, hallucinating.
Was that going to happen to her?
Covering her face with her hands, Fen took a deep breath, fighting the desire to cry.
She couldn’t think about this now. She didn’t have time for it. She was supposed to be getting dressed for lunch, to sit at a table with Kaio and his snobby sister, and not—definitely, seriously, really not—ask any stupid questions.
She stood, crossing to the wardrobe, and pulled open the door. Her mouth dropped open. The wardrobe was full. Next to the simple cotton dresses Eladio had found for her hung several others, plus skirts and blouses, a lightweight jacket, pants, even a lacy cocktail dress.
“Shit,” she said out loud, staring at the clothes in shock. “How long does he think I’m staying?”
There were even shoes. Three pairs of sandals, black flats, and a pair of elegant, high-heeled pumps that she’d never manage to walk in. She bent and picked up the pumps. Her size with a name that sounded vaguely familiar and seriously expensive.
She looked at the dresser. Delicately, as if they might bite, she pulled open one drawer after another. Underwear. Pajamas. Tank tops and t-shirts. Shorts. Lightweight sweaters. Cotton capris. Enough clothes that she wouldn’t need to wear the same outfit for a month.
She dropped down onto the bed.
What was she doing here?
So Very, Very Nice
Fen paused in the doorway of the dining room, nervous about entering.
She was not going to panic.
She was not going to make a fool of herself.
She was not going to blurt out anything truly stupid.
“By the way, are you from outer space?” would never cross her lips. Never, never, never.
But her heart was racing as she stepped into the room.
Kaio rose from the table immediately, as though he’d been watching for her. Luke, seated on his left, followed him and—much more slowly—so did a woman seated on his right.
“Luke?” Fen exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Doc said I could start coming down for meals,” he answered, grinning at her. “I’m doing great.”
Fen forced her feet to start moving across the room to join them as Luke pulled out the chair next to him. The table was covered in a white cloth, set already with plates of patterned china, ornate silverware, and sparkling glass goblets, all looking far more formal than the casual meals Fen had been eating in the breakfast room.
How the hell was Luke so much better? She’d seen him that morning. He’d been pale, hollow-eyed, suffering while he waited for his next dose of painkillers.
“Are you guys aliens?”
Oh, shit.
She’d said it out loud.
Luke’s eyebrows shot up, Kaio hid a smile, and the woman said, “Aliens?” in a voice that
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