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“We won’t know until we go inside,” she said.
We left the car and headed toward the factory. My chest grew tighter with every step. What waited for me inside? Surely my memories here would be more pleasant than those I’d regained at my father’s manor. They had to be.
Morgan offered me a tight smile. I was grateful for her support, more than words could express. But I could sense something shifting in her, tension that hadn’t been there before.
Answers waited behind the door, a life that I had left behind.
I pulled out my keyring before remembering the only key I possessed was to my car.
“It looks like it uses a keycard like at the hotel,” Morgan said.
I checked my wallet and found a slightly heavy black card with a silver lollipop engraved into it.
“This fits with the childhood fantasy,” Morgan said. “It’s a very secret lair touch.”
I pressed the card to the panel. The door made a clicking sound and popped open.
We stepped onto a polished concrete floor which gleamed under the soft glow of unadorned light bulbs hanging down from the high ceiling. Two doors waited to the right, while a metal staircase sat to the left. A clean, lemony mint scent filled the air.
“This isn’t what I expected,” Morgan said.
My chest grew tighter.
“This way.” I headed up the stairs. Each clink of my shoe against the metal added to the symphony of familiar sensation.
Side-by-side, we walked down the hallway until we reached the last door. Number four. I pressed the lollipop keycard to the pad and the door clicked open.
I stood before the threshold, uncertain.
“It’s going to be great.” Morgan took my hand and led me inside.
Clean, minimalist furnishings accented a barren space. Exposed brickwork matched steel finishes. The silvers, grays, and whites offered no personality and no warmth.
This wasn’t a home.
But it was where I lived.
“Very modern,” Morgan said.
“Cold and lacking personality,” I said.
“Hmm,” she said. “I agree it’s a bit drab for an apartment set in a place that used to make candy.”
“Like the old me picked the happiest place on earth and went out of his way to dampen that joy.” It was a little sad, really, and not indicative of the person I wanted to be.
“More like he didn’t spend much time here.” Morgan plucked one of the two framed photographs from the mantel.
I stepped closer to see. “That’s me and my half-brother Jasper. One summer at our father’s estate.”
“I think I saw him on the news,” Morgan said.
Had she seen the same television segment I had? The one that had prompted me to phone the authorities?
“Does he have long hair now?” she asked.
“He does,” I said.
“He looked worried that you were missing, like he hadn’t slept. Are you two close?”
