AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But then what? The hall outside is kept in darkness, I know that because there is never the slightest glimmer of light when the man comes into the room. How will I be able to negotiate an unknown space in the dark? How would I get out of the house? If I turn left in the hallway, I’d be able to find my way to the door that leads to the basement. But what if it’s kept locked? If I were to find it open, and I went down the twelve stone steps and along the corridor to the door we came through eight days ago, it would probably be locked too.
There must be a main door to the house, somewhere on the ground level where I’m being kept, possibly to the right. It will probably be locked but there might be a key nearby, or a window I can break. I would just need to find my way in the dark.
But the whole house can’t be in darkness, just as the door to my room can’t be the only door in the hallway. There must be other doors that lead to rooms with windows that aren’t boarded up, windows that I could open, or break. And once outside, I would run, find help.
I think it through. If I could immobilize the man when he comeswith my tray, I could take his night-vision goggles and use them to navigate my way along the hallway. But I have nothing to use as a weapon, only my strength and I know I’m not strong enough to overpower him.
How does it happen when he brings me food? I close my eyes, replay his movements in my head—he unlocks the door, comes in, walks over to where I’m sitting, puts the tray on the floor, picks up the previous tray, goes back to the door, leaves, locks it behind him.
My eyes snap open. I’ve never sensed him pause on his way out, I’ve never sensed him adjusting his grip on the tray so that he can hold it with one hand and open the door with the other. Which means that when he comes into the room, he doesn’t close the door behind him, he leaves it open.
My heart thumps with excitement. If what I think is true, I can get out of the room.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
PAST
“So, Amelie, what do you think?” Justine asked.
We’d arrived at the party and were standing in the vast entrance hall of theExclusivesoffices. I stared up at the atrium ceiling, hung with thousands of tiny lights.
“It’s stunning,” I said. “Does all this really belong toExclusives? The whole building?”
“Yes—well, to Ned. Impressive, isn’t it?”
She took my arm and led me toward the main hall, where people wearing beautiful dresses and designer suits were standing in small groups, while live music played in the background. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great place to work. But having a few men around might dilute the cutthroat atmosphere a bit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that it’s hard to stand up to Ned. He can fire you for no discernible reason. It happened to Sam the other day, he made her leave, just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “She didn’t say a word, just packed her things and left.”
“Can he do that?”
She shrugged. “Ned Hawthorpe can do anything he likes.”
It was hard to know where to look. To the right, emerging periodically from a side door, elegant waitstaff circled with trays of champagne and canapés. Along the back wall, cooking stations had been set up.
“This is amazing,” I said. “Did you really organize it all?”
“With a lot of help.”
We passed a stand with dishes piled high with caviar.
“So much food!” I said.
“There’s every cuisine you can possibly think of,” Justine explained. “Italian, French, Thai, Malaysian, American; you name it, it’s probably here.”
“Where’s Lina? And Carolyn? Didn’t they say they were going to get something to eat?”
“Over there, I think.” She leaned closer to me, and I smelled her distinct rose-based perfume. “Look, there’s the boss.”
I looked to where she was pointing and saw a dark-haired man weaving his way through the crowd, accompanied by two other men, one of whom was dressed in a black suit. A head shorter than his friends, Ned Hawthorpe moved with the ease of someone comfortable in his skin. I watched as they headed toward a table at the side of the room. Ned and one of the men sat down, while the other stood to one side.
“Who’s the man with Ned?” I asked.
“His best friend, Matt Algerson, heir—along with his sister—to the Algerson fortune,” Justine said. “I love his shirt; it matches my dress.”
“No, I meant the other man, the one dressed in black.”
