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The Worst Damn Timing
I crammyself beneath the desk because that’s all I can think to do. There are no other doors in here and the cabinets are tiny, so the desk seems the easiest and most obvious place for me to hide. Yet again.
But the space beneath this one is smaller, so I have to fold my knees into my chest and bury my face between them. My heart is jumping through my chest so hard I can feel it against my legs.
Footsteps patter down the stairs and I hear her curse under her breath. “Fuck.”
It’s Ruby.
I guess she stayed over again. Does that woman ever go home?
When her feet hit concrete, she says, “I swear I’ve told that idiot a million times to turn the lights off.”
Wait…
Who?
I rack my brain as she moves in purposeful steps around the room. Rustles things around when she stops. Moves around some more. Rustles. Like she’s looking for something. She mumbles, “I’m going to start taking it out of his pay.”
Maybe she means the butler. That he didn’t turn the lights off after he cleaned up.
I’d feel relief at her assumption if I weren’t so terrified of her finding me here.
Her footsteps move this way.
My breathing stills, despite my lungs pleading for more air to feed my pumping heart.
Her feet stop like she’s spotted something.
I flinch into myself. Can she see me beneath the desk?
My eyes screw tight like a child’s.
Maybe not. Maybe not.
But…if she does, what will I do? Run? That’s all I’ll have.
I’m obviously guilty. There’s no playing this off. Oh, just here for a creepy surgical room midnight tour and taking a break!
She curses under her breath again and starts my way.
Oh no.She sees me.
I unfurl a little, preparing to crawl out and run.
Her feet stop at the desk and she snatches something. Metal clanging together, and her bare feet pivot toward the stairs. She sighs. “I’m losing my mind in this house of idiots.”
And then she’s gone.
Nearly runs up the stairs.
The lights flick off and she locks me down here in the darkness.
It’sa good solid minute before I carefully feel my way out from under the desk and prop against its side while I gather myself. My heart is still racing, my lungs still demanding air, but at least my nerves are beginning to calm.
The good news? She thinks the keys being down here was her fault. Thinks she misplaced them earlier. The bad? I’m locked down here in the dark.
Hopefully, I can unlock the door from this side. In most normal houses, I would be able to. If I can’t, I’m screwed. I’m so, so screwed.
