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“Nina? Yes, right when I got here.”
Mariana’s gaze lingers on me as if she’s waiting for my initial impression.
The thing is, I’m unsure of my initial impression. When I first met Nina, she couldn’t take her eyes off of mine. Her eyes were sharp, crystal clear. She was completely lucid and soaking in every second of our meeting. However, after she woke from her nap, she was like a vegetable, dead behind the eyes. I even had to wipe drool from her chin once.
“Well,” Mariana says, “if you have any questions about her, or the process of caring for her, let me know.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate that. Tristan said she likes to be read to, so that’s what I’ve been doing this afternoon. Is there anything else she likes?”
“Yes. To have her hair brushed.”
“Really? You know, I was wondering how her hair is so perfect.”
“Tristan brings in someone from town once a month to color and style it. The white hair is her natural color, believe it or not. She’s gray now, of course, but they color it to white.”
The image of their son and his white-blond hair flashes behind my eyes.
“So,” Mariana pivots, “that’s the first floor and the outside. Did he show you your room?”
I nod.
“Great. I’ll show you around the rest of the second floor then.”
I play along, not mentioning the fact that I’ve already snooped through the second floor, including breaking into the locked room at the end of the hall, which appears to be their missing son’s room.
Mariana walks me through the library, the media room, and the additional bedrooms. She gestures to the last room. “And that’s a bedroom, and that’s about it—”
“Whose room is that?” I ask, interrupting.
She hesitates, if only for a second. “That’s Nina’s room.”
I frown. “Is it? I thought her room was the master bedroom.”
“Well, I should say it’s not her room, technically, but Nina demands that it be locked at all times.”
“I thought she couldn’t speak.”
“Before the stroke.”
“What’s in it?”
Mariana’s eyes narrow. “You might be psychic, Miss Greer, but I am an expert reader of bullshit.”
“I—I, uh ...”
She cocks her head, her long silky black hair falling over her shoulder. “You’ve seen the room, haven’t you?”
My mouth turns to sand, and I lie, pitifully. “I—I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to.”
“You didn’t know you weren’t supposed to go into a locked room?”
“Please don’t tell Tristan.”
Mariana shakes her head, but then confesses, “I did it too, don’t worry. Just not on my first day, jeez.”
I heave a sigh of relief. “You broke in too?”
“Yes.” She grins. “How can you not, right?”
