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My face must reflect my disappointment, because Roxanne leaves the doorway and sits on my bed. Her phone buzzes on the comforter, but she leaves it face down. “Hey, I know it’s a lot of change and you’re probably home sick. But it’ll get better, I promise. And this weekend is just for you to get settled in. Starting Monday, you’ll have classes and friends and activities, and you’ll probably wish for alone time.”
“I don’t know why everyone keeps saying I need to ‘settle in,’” I grumble. “All of my stuff was already put away when I got here. There’s literally nothing for me to settle.”
“Just your spirit, Layla. It’s a chance for you to take ownership of the space and make it feel like your own.”
“Speaking of ownership of the space…” I tell her about my fridge and snacks cupboard idea, and she assures me she’ll take care of it.
“Now, your breakfast is growing cold, so why don’t you go eat and enjoy your day? We’ll have a nice dinner tonight for your birthday.” With a warm hug, Roxanne stands and bustles from the room. She’s already got the phone raised to her ear before she’s out of my suite.
I pull on my robe and stumble to the dining area, where a meal is artfully laid out on the cloth-draped table, complete with water, juice, and coffee with cream and sugar. When I pull the cover from the plate, a wisp of steam rises with it and I’m enveloped in a billow of scent from pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
Roxanne clearly directed this meal, as it held all of my favorites. I flick the tv on to watch a show about a fairy academy while I eat, and enjoy my peaceful breakfast.
ChapterFour
Layla
* * *
Morning in the Smoky Mountains is misty and cool, but I can’t wait to get outside and explore. I tuck my phone into my jeans pocket and pull on a fuzzy cream-colored sweater, then take the elevator down and dart for the door. I’m a little afraid Roxanne will insist on sending a chaperone with me, so my mission is to get out unseen.
Once I descend the stone steps, I’m not sure where to go. In the foggy daylight, I can definitely see more of the property than I could last night, but it seems to disappear a hundred yards away. Uncle Dom said the property is six thousand acres… that’s definitely big enough for me to get completely lost in, and I suddenly second-guess my desire to wander alone.
But my stubborn side kicks in. After a year under close supervision, I am itching for the freedom this place offers. After all, I spent years on the streets taking care of myself. Derrek was there, and the other kids, but we all knew we were really on our own. Besides, it’s not like I’m a complete moron. Roxanne clearly feels more relaxed about it here, so as long as I don’t go into the woods, I should be able to find myself back to the house just fine.
House, I snort to myself. Castle, more like.I shouldn’t have a problem finding my way back to the castle.
Tucking my fingers into the soft weave of my sweater, I turn right and start marching into the mist. It’s quiet, the blanket of fog suppressing any sound aside from the crunch of gravel under my feet. The further I go, the more I can see in the distance. First there’s a row of very tall trees that seem to line the long oval driveway. Beyond them is a wall made of the same tan stone as the main building, and then a set of descending stairs lies directly in front of me, with a large, empty courtyard on my level to the right like an extension of the house.
Once down the stairs, I see another narrow courtyard on the left, except this one isn’t empty. It’s filled with a series of large ponds, and high walls on either side support trellises of vines that shade benches every twenty feet. I can’t see how far back it goes in the fog. I continue straight and find myself on a long stone walkway butted up against a high wall to the right, covered by a series of arbors thick with vines. A large fountain is mounted to the wall, featuring a dancing fish spraying water, and a set of stairs to the left with a small sign that reads ‘Green House.’
My heart beats quickly as I descend yet another set of steps. It’s not like it’s a lot of exercise, but there’s something exhilarating about wandering around this misty garden alone. It’s like at any time a person—or a beast—could materialize out of the fog. But I have yet to run into another soul, even though I’m sure they’re out there. Somewhere.
I follow a winding trail, this one paved, through a more natural section of the garden. There are ghostly trees at a distance of a couple hundred yards on both sides, but the area around the path seems rather well-manicured. All the plants are cultivated, with small signs in the mulch explaining their species. A narrow path of wood chips veers off the main trail, circling one of the larger beds up over a hill, and I decide to follow it. It’s a path. Surely it’s safe enough.
I didn’t realize how damp the ground was until now. The woodchips sink into the soft earth beneath my feet and the grass around the path appears almost muddy.
And that’s when I see them: clear, distinctly canine prints in the mud. And they’re large, almost as big as my own feet. They seem to exit the forest and end on the trail, as if the wolf enjoyed a casual stroll through the gardens last night.
Well, now my uncle’s warning to stay out of the woods because of animals definitely hits home. I can’t imagine the size of the monster that made those prints. It had to be up to my chest! I’ve never heard of a wolf that large.
I whip out my phone to research wolves in the Smoky Mountains, but I have no signal.Figures.
Tucking the device back in my pocket, I continue on the trail and ignore the shiver that runs down my spine.
You’re not in LA anymore, Layla.
Before long, the woodchips lead me back to the main paved trail, and I continue a gradual descent until I reach yet another set of steps. An ornate wooden arbor guards this one, and when I reach the bottom I’m looking out over evenmoregardens.
The area is clear, massive, and neatly cultivated. At least as large as a football field, it’s ringed with neat rows of plants as far as the eye can see. The mist clings to everything, so I can’t make out too much detail. However, I see a long vine-covered arbor creating a center path, with curving walkways weaving to the left and the right among hundreds of rose bushes. Far in the distance, barely visible in the thick fog, are the peaks of several massive glass buildings.
My excitement grows, and I head straight down the central path. I can enjoy the roses on a sunny day, but in my life I’d never imagined such a large greenhouse. When I saw the sign, I pictured a tiny little hut made of glass with a central aisle and a single row on either side to support a few plants.
As I get closer, I can really appreciate the size. There are four altogether, each with their own set of double doors, and easily three stories tall. In the distance, I hear the hum of a vehicle, but I still have yet to see a living soul. I can see the tops of palm trees—palm trees!—in the peaked roofs of glass, so I head for the second building and tug on one of the heavy wooden doors.
It opens far more easily than I expect, and I feel as if I’m Dorothy, suddenly going from black and white Kansas to the bright garish colors of Oz. There is a riot of color in here, and it’s absolutely astonishing. Every shade of green imaginable bursts from the beds, with colorful tropical flowers dispersed among the lush greenery. Plants tower overhead and pour down the walls, vines crawling across every surface. Immediately inside the door is a path to the left or right, wrapping around a large central bed and connecting to the greenhouse on either side.
I decide to wander right, taking in the bright colors as the warm tropical air chases the chill from my skin. When I reach the doors to the next greenhouse, I pass through to find myself in an orchid oasis. Not only are there tumbling waterfalls of large white blossoms, but stems bearing every shape and color of the flower surround me on all sides like colorful ribbons. Orchids are grafted onto palm trees, their spindly roots sticking out at all angles to draw moisture from the air. Potted orchids are tucked into nests of greenery in another large central planter. It’s so much. I feel that pressure in my chest again, the overwhelm that I grappled with last night.
