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I don’t know who or what has possessed me. Phrases like that keep flying out of my mouth—things that only a man who genuinely cares would say.
That same stranger sitting under my skin makes me pause just outside the solarium door so I can listen in on their conversation. Bambi keeps asking questions to figure out what Willow wants, but the kid is too shy to actually answer. I hear a softly muttered, “Mommy doesn’t have a lot of money,” and Bambi’s richer tone assures her there’s nothing to worry about.
The mysterious squeeze in my heart strongly disagrees.
20
CLARA
Am I swimming?
Everything is floating around me like I am.
I try to look up from where I’m lying, but even that little effort makes me feel like I’m rolling head over heels with the dizzying vertigo that slams into me.
I groan and give up. My limbs sink deeper into the softness surrounding me… and that’s when I realize I’m not swimming at all. I’m sprawled in a bed, tucked under a comforter, cushioned by who knows how many overstuffed pillows.
And I’m alone.
Where’s Willow?
Oh, God. I don’t know where my daughter is.
I try to jump out of bed, but my legs are weaker than I expected. I crumple to the floor almost immediately. A chair set up next to the bed, for whatever reason, is heavy enough for me to grab and pull myself up with.
The room keeps spinning.
My face feels so hot.
My head hurts, too. Not like a migraine, but more of this dull, throbbing discomfort that twists my insides every step I take. The ground keeps lunging at me, but I’m too determined to find my baby girl to let it win.
I manage to claw my way over furniture to the door. My fingers fumble weakly with the knob, but eventually, it squeaks open. My bodyweight swings me forward through the crack. I nearly trip over my own toes, but muster enough strength to hold myself up where I’m gripping the knob and frame.
No one is in the hall. I don’t think so, at least.
Pretty sure this is a trap.
It has to be. There’s no way Demyen would allow it to be so easy for me to just… walk… out of…
I need to stop.
The wall feels nice. It’s cool adobe, so smooth and soothing where my cheek presses to it. I could stay right here forever; it actually feels even better than the bed.
No, no… I need to find Willow. I need to find my baby and we need to get out of here. Back to walking. One foot in front of the other.
It’s harder to walk in this hall. There’s not enough furniture to grab and lean against, so I’m mostly just sliding along the wall. I have to move slowly so I don’t scrape myself, and because my legs keep wobbling and threatening to give out under me.
God, I hope I’m going in the right direction.
I hear a door open somewhere nearby. I freeze. Voices mutter and muddle, but I can’t make out the words. They vanish behind what might be another door. Once I’m sure the silence is permanent, I take another few shaky steps forward.
This time, the door that opens is right in front of me.
“The hell…?”
No. No… no no no no no…
I close my eyes and this time, I allow my legs to fold under me. I crumple to the floor with a soft whimper. I want to cry, but my head hurts too much. I want to scream, but it’s a miracle I have the strength to even groan.
