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“You shouldn’t antagonize him,” George whispers.
I take a peek at the forty-year-old man who has never spoken to me. I wonder how long he had been standing outside my father’s office door. Responding would be pointless. George steps in front of me as we enter the ornate foyer of the house. We walk past the enormous staircase to the first floor, where I sleep. I’m looking around for my sister. I want to check on her, but no one is in sight to even ask about her.
When we reach my bedroom, George opens the door but doesn’t enter. No one is permitted into our sleeping quarters. I had a hand in designing my room. The gold leaf that adorns all the matching white French furniture pulls the room together. It’s a mix of contemporary and old world. The large black chandelier over my bed sends light dancing across the gray silk duvet. I find my gaze ping-ponging around the luxurious space. It’s my haven, where I seek solitude on the hard days. I often thrash out my pain in my quarters and try to heal myself by decorating the space. I won’t return here. I shake off the sense of loss and walk to my open closet.
I need to pack. My stomach squirms in pain, and I scramble for my calm, which in this moment, I can’t find. I’m leaving again to marry yet another man. Will he hurt me as Victor had? A part of me wants to curl up and find a corner to hide in. I want to bury my head and let the time pass.
But gathering some possessions and saying goodbye to Louise spurs me to my walk-in wardrobe. I freeze as George greets my father on the landing. My dread grows as I spin around, fearing he’s come to finish what he started in his office.
My father barges into my room and slams my bedroom door behind him. When he spins the lock, I know it’s to keep George from interfering with whatever is about to come next.
I won’t have anyone to save me this time.
***
