“Did Kingsley ever paint you?” I ask.
“A bunch of times. I like it better if he just works from a photograph, though. Or from memory. Posing is very boring and your arms get sore, or your butt or whatever. And he gets mad if you move, because he wants to get you in the light the right way, but he’s forgotten you’re even a person. So you’re sweating and like, hungry for snacks. But then, when the painting is done, you feel like the opposite happened. Like Kingsley saw something inside your soul. And he put it on the canvas so everyone else could see it, too.”
After Meer leaves me, I rummage in my backpack for my phone. I should text my mom to tell her where I am, and Saar to say I arrived.
But my phone isn’t there.
I open the sleeve where I carry my laptop. That isn’t there, either.
Meer talked about being unplugged. “We have cell phones for emergencies and there are computers, but we keep all the electronics in a locked room and only go in there for tech mornings so we can catch up and handle things. Monday and Thursday.”
Did he really remove the electronics from my bag? Or did June take them while I was passed out on the breakfast room couch?
It’s unnerving. For the second time I wonder if it was a good idea to come here.
I am mostly unpacked when I hear voices in the hall. Male voices, young. Brock and someone else. I am guessing Tatum.
“Who’s here?”
“Where?”
“In the Iron Room. The door’s closed.”
“Oh, that’s Matilda,” says Brock.
“Matilda, like Meer’s sister Matilda?”
“Yeah.”
“Shecame to visit?”
“Yeah. She’s sick or something. She passed out on the kitchen floor.”
There’s a pause. Tatum sighs. “Did we know she was coming?”
“Youobviously didn’t.”
“Didyouknow, is what I’m asking.”
“I did not.”
“Did Meer?”
“Seemed to, yeah.”
“She just what? Decided to show up? Does Kingsley know?” asks Tatum.
“I don’t know what Kingsley knows.”
“How long is she staying?”
“Probably just, like, for a visit. How long do people visit for?”
“You’ve been here a year.”
“Oh, and what would you do without me?”
There is a thwacking sound, as if one of them has thrown a pillow. Then another thwack. Laughter.
