“What happens after that?”
“We’ll see.” Mason kisses my forehead and takes my hand again. Our footsteps are loud and jarring against the stillness of the night, and I hold my breath until we reach the front door. It creaks open, revealing a hallway with two doors on either side. In silence, I follow Mason as we venture deeper inside, and I find myself standing in the middle of a living room with a fireplace and an open floor-kitchen with gleaming appliances.
I peel off the coat, taking in the cream-colored walls and the backyard. “Won’t they check the safehouses first?”
Mason shakes his head. “Not this one. Don’t worry. Come on, let me show you our room.”
I nod and follow him back to the hallway.
He stops in front of the door to the right and reveals a clean and spacious room with hardwood floors and an en suite bathroom. Then, we head back toward the kitchen.
Having Katia in such close quarters is better than the alternative, but it still makes me uneasy.
You’d better wrap your head around it because this is your reality now. At least, it will be for the next few months.
My half-baked escape plan feels like a million miles away.
Like they’re part of another life.
Mason pulls out a stool for me in the kitchen, opening and closing several cupboards, and eventually setting down a few containers. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
I push the stool back and stand up. “Why don’t I go clean up first, and then we can eat?”
Mason nods. “Okay, I’ll make us all something.”
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
Mason shrugs and pries one of the lids open. Then he goes back to the fridge and returns with a handful of vegetables. “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”
“I guess you’re right.”
He pulls out a knife and a cutting board. “There are fresh towels in the bathroom, and the heater should be working fine. Katia will bring in the bags.”
I leave the bathroom door ajar and turn on the water. While it heats up, I peel off my sweaty clothes and leave them in a heap on the floor. Then, I pull the curtain aside and step in. Hot water pours down my back and swirls at my feet as I stand there.
The past few hours don’t make sense.
Everything I know is gone, and with my parents in the wind, there’s a strange ache in the center of my chest.
When I step out of the shower, I wrap myself in a clean, fluffy towel and pad into the room. The bag is on the bed, unzipped, and I pull out a pair of sweatpants, clean underwear, and a hoodie. After pulling them on, I step in front of the dresser and take one of the brushes.
I drag it through my hair, carefully avoiding the mirror.
Voices spill out into the hallway as I step out and pause.
“It’s too risky to reach out to any of our allies. You know that as well as I do.”
“I can put out a few feelers.”
“Did you make sure to leave some DNA evidence behind?”
“Yes. For now, at least, it will seem like you all died in the fire.”
“That son of a bitch shouldn’t get away with any of this,” Mason says. “How the fuck did this happen?”
I press myself against the wall and creep closer, needing to hear the next part.
“Your father has already expressed some interest in taking Mathew on, but--
