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“It’s not a prison, Cora.”
“Okay, then can I leave right now? What if I want to go for a walk or head to the mall? I’m sure I can just pop over with no problem, right?”
I didn’t think it was possible for his good humor to flag, but Yasha looks genuinely exhausted by me. “You’ll have to talk to Ivan about that.”
I roll my eyes. “Right. Talk to the warden, not the jailer.”
“It’s really not going to be so bad, Cora. If you give it a chance, you might have a good time.”
Yasha walks inside and I slouch down in my chair. “That’s exactly what I’m scared of.”
23
CORA
I eat lunch—an incredible pork taco that I would give my left nipple to have the recipe for—and then experiment with a stroll around the yard.
I pace back and forth, slowly making my way further and further from the house as a kind of test.
If I move twenty paces out, will a guard appear to escort me back?
What about thirty paces? Maybe a drone will buzz overhead, a tiny gun aimed and ready to fire.
But nothing happens. The sky remains clear except for the sun, which turns my shoulders pink. I kick off my sandals and drag my toes through the lush grass.
More and more, I think Yasha is probably right. Life here in Ivan’s mansion won’t be so bad…
Which will make things even worse when I’m ruthlessly kicked back to the dirty curb of my normal life.
I don’t want to sound ungrateful. My life is good. It’s better than living in abject poverty and it’s certainly better than the bedazzled cell my stepfather had planned for me.
Still, it’s nice to have a hot meal delivered to my table. It’s nice to freely spend an afternoon without counting down the hours until my next shift at the diner.
I have a feeling, when all is said and done, it will be hard to walk away from this.
I make it all the way to the back fence and turn around to face the mansion. It’s breathtaking that people live like this. ThatI’mgoing to live like this, no matter how briefly.
The house is a stunning three levels with balconies draped from some of the windows. A mezzanine level winds halfway around the top floor. Endless windows and doors and rooms and secrets tucked away in what can only be described as a castle.
Except the man inside is no Prince Charming.
And I’m sure as hell no princess.
My mind is making its fifth pass over my long list of worries when I finally pull the phone Yasha gave me out of my pocket and tap in Jorden’s number.
She answers immediately. “Hello?”
“Hey. It’s me.”
There’s a pause before she shrieks. “Cora! I’ve been blowing up your phone all day. Where have you been? What happened? The windows blew out. Someone said a gas explosion, but I don’t know. I thought I heard gunfire. Are you okay?”
She’s talking so fast that she’s panting by the time she pauses.
“I’m okay. I’m fine.”
“You sure?” she asks. “Was it an explosion? Or a shooting? That hot guy who took me outside wouldn’t say anything.”
I frown. Ivan didn’t take her outside. Then I realize who she is talking about. “Yasha?”
