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The warm glow of overhead lights illuminates a four-poster bed that takes up most of the room. A collection of stuffed toys is arranged near the headrest. Most of them look old and worn but are well taken care of.
Warmth flares inside me as I stare at them. Rory must’ve grown up with these toys. It’s so cute to see that she still adores them and cares for them.
I look around at the rest of the furniture that fills up the space. Everything, including the curtains at the windows, is in a shade of dark crimson and maroon.
Rory’s love for red is etched in every corner of the room.
“Come in already,” Heather says, gesturing at us.
The moment I step into the room, I’m surrounded by Rory’s signature peach and clove scent.
How could a girl who grew up in such luxurious surroundings bear living in those dark, foul underground cages? The very thought makes my insides burn with rage and hatred.
“Look at these paintings,” Heather says, drawing my attention toward her. “They were all done by our Rory.”
A proud grin blossoms on her lips as she gestures at the half-a-dozen paintings that she’s propped up against the wall.
“Wow,” Simon breathes, moving closer to take a look. “Rory painted them?”
“Oh, these are nothing!” Heather says, waving a hand. “She’s created nicer paintings than these. If she continued with her passion, she’d have had her creations hanging in the galleries in town.”
“Why did she stop painting?” I ask.
“Jake made her stop,” she says, her face darkening with anger. “He told her not to bother with her hobby anymore.” A scathing scoff escapes her. “Do you think people create such art out of a mere hobby?”
“No,” I say at once, admiring the paintings. “Rory is exceptionally talented.”
Heather beams. “I’m so glad you see it for yourself. Don’t you think she should continue with her art?”
I nod. “Definitely. It’d be a shame if she gave it up now.”
“Rory’s too talented to give up,” Simon says. “Can you help us pack up all her painting stuff too?”
“Oh, you really don’t mind Rory pursuing her passion?” Heather asks with a desperate look in her eyes.
“Of course, not,” I say.
“Why would we mind?” Simon says. “We’re proud of her talents. We won’t stop Rory from doing anything that makes her happy.”
“Oh...” Heather suddenly chokes up.
“Hey, it’s all right,” I say, moving toward the sweet, old woman to hug her. “Rory’s going to be fine. We promise you.”
“Where have you two been until now?” she asks in a broken voice. “Rory needed you. If you’d met her earlier, she’d have never ended up with an asshole like Jake.”
Jake...The name is etched into my mind. While I know he wasn’t among the Black Widow, he’s someone who hurt Rory in the past.
“Stay right here,” Heather says, patting my arm. “I’ll go downstairs and bring up some boxes.”
“Thanks,” I say. “We appreciate all the help.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she says, smiling at us. “I’ll be right back.”
Simon sinks onto the bed’s edge and grabs a pillow. “There’s so much we don’t know about Rory,” he says in a thoughtful tone.
A heavy sigh escapes me as I sit next to him. “We’ve got to find out how Rory ended up as a captive.”
“I’ll kill the bastards that dragged her into that hellhole,” Simon says, his eyes burning with rage. “Oh, and add Jake Hudson to that list. He deserves a fucking kick to his nuts for hurting Rory.”
