AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He cocks his head, studying me. “You’re awfully blunt.”
“Got a problem with that?”
“Nope. But people who usually arrive here are more…” He glances away, as if he’s said too much.
“More what?”
When he looks back at me, I can’t fathom the emotion in his eyes. “Broken,” he says softly, before giving a little shake as if rousing. “Ready to meet the Medvilles, or would you prefer to look around first?”
My stomach is in knots at the thought of meeting my prospective employers, but I’d like to do it sooner rather than later so I know where I stand employment-wise, so I say, “I’d like to meet them now.”
He gives a terse nod and I fall into step beside him as we follow a long, dark corridor leading off into the foyer. His silence is unnerving and I want to ask what he meant by saying most people who come here are broken, but maybe I don’t need to. If anyone understands what it means to be broken, I do. My first crack appeared at around six, when Mom forgot my birthday because she had a date with a rich old dude, and those cracks continued to splinter throughout my childhood as she let me down repeatedly, until I resembled nothing more than a shattered mirror.
It makes sense that others who’ve possibly endured hardship and are looking for a fresh start choose to work here too: off the grid, in the fresh air, without the secrets of their past dogging their every move. I hope Arcania offers me the same reprieve.
I’m nervous about meeting Harlan’s parents and when Spencer stops outside an ornate door and knocks before opening it, I wish I’d taken that tour of the place first so I know what I’m getting myself into.
When I see the couple standing by a fireplace, my nerves aren’t appeased. They’re giants. Helga’s at least six feet and Magnus clears her by another six inches. They’re big, blond, broad-shouldered, and look like they could row a Viking ship from Iceland to the United States without breaking a sweat.
Before Spencer can introduce me, Helga steps forward with her hands outstretched. “You must be Cora. Harlan’s told us so much about you. It’s lovely to meet you.”
Thrown off guard by her unexpected effusiveness, I place my hands in hers, wishing we could’ve done a simple shake. She has man hands—huge—and they engulf mine in a grip that has me struggling to hold back a wince.
Magnus steps up beside his wife and thankfully holds out his hand, meaning Helga has to release mine. “Hello, Cora.”
I manage a sedate “hi” as I shake his hand, confused by their constant beaming, like I’m some prodigal daughter who has returned home.
“Harlan mentioned you’re looking for work?” Helga asks, gesturing to an overstuffed chair. “Why don’t we sit and discuss it?”
“Okay.” I glance at Spencer, who gives me a thumbs up sign of encouragement before leaving the room. Weird that the Medvilles didn’t even acknowledge him. “Yes, I’m seeking employment.”
“We do have a vacancy here at the moment,” Magnus says. “So your arrival is rather timely.”
“Have you worked before, dear?” Helga hasn’t let up with the smiling and it’s slightly off-putting. “What are your skills?”
“I’ve worked part time in a diner for a few years, so I’m great with customers. And I’m a fast learner. I’m also resourceful, dedicated and driven.”
“Impressive,” Helga says, while Magnus nods. “The role here is rather ambiguous, meaning you’ll be picking apples in the orchards sometimes, or helping Daphne in the kitchen, or assisting Spencer with the general running of the place—”
“The position comes with a lot of responsibility,” Magnus interrupts. He’s lost the smile, and a frown grooves his bushy brows. “Do you think you can handle it?”
I don’t tell my new employers I would’ve been happy cleaning toilets if it gained me steady work and a regular paycheck. “Absolutely. I’m a hard worker and I won’t let you down.”
“We’re counting on it, dear.”
I can’t fathom the meaningful glance that passes between them. Maybe I don’t want to? The Melville’s are a tad odd and their house a little creepy, but considering what I’ve run from, how bad can this be?
Chapter9
Lucy
Isleep surprisingly well. At home, I take ages to fall asleep and since Mom died, insomnia has plagued me. Every night I spend hours reading, often having to flick back to the previous page because I have absorbed nothing, until I finally fall asleep around three thirty in the morning. I wake unrested, with a pounding head and gritty eyes, hoping that Mom’s death has been a nightmare. But in those few seconds it takes for me to struggle to consciousness I know my hope is futile and she’s really gone. And another yawning day stretches before me where I wander through the apartment, too grief-stricken to pack away her things, too sad to do much else than wallow.
It must’ve been sheer exhaustion that helped me fall asleep last night, my first in Arcania, but I can’t remember much beyond drinking my bottled water, then passing out into welcome oblivion.
After showering and dressing, I follow the corridor back to the foyer, its grandiosity striking anew. I understand wanting to preserve the history of the place, but it’s so dark and gothic compared with the rooms that the contrast is startling. Three corridors branch off from the foyer, not including the one I’ve just traversed. The one opposite leads to more rooms, the other two have signs over them: DINING ROOM and RECREATION ROOMS.
I’m not in the mood to have breakfast with a bunch of strangers, but I’m starving, so I follow the corridor toward the dining room, not surprised there isn’t a hint of bacon or pancakes in the air. While last night’s dinner was yummy, I fully expect to consume my body weight in quinoa, tofu, and chia seeds at this wellness center, and I’m sure breakfast will comprise oats, granola, and fruit bowls.
