Her Name Is Knight(Nena Knight #1)(38)

The woman has on a silvery dress with rows of bracelets on her tiny wrists that jingle together. She keeps smiling, showing all her teeth. I will not give them satisfaction by asking questions, looking afraid, or showing apprehension. I work to wash all the emotions from my face.

“What is your name?” she asks as the car begins to move. I concentrate on the dark windows, which make the outside world look like a black hole. She is also French, another obroni, with a voice that is older, gravelly. Not what I expected.

“I’m Bridget.” She sighs when I don’t answer and leans back in her seat. It is unsettling, driving into an abyss of nothingness. “It’s okay if you don’t speak much. Monsieur Robach likes them quiet.”

The acrid smell of smoke indicates she’s lit a cigarette. She rolls the window down for the smoke to escape. “I’m sure you have questions. So this is how it will go. I will be your escort to France and drop you at his home. He is already on the way to the airport and will leave ahead of us. You and I will stay in Accra for a night. Tonight Ghana, tomorrow France.”

I can’t help myself. I turn to look at her.

“I travel with you because fewer questions are asked when a little African girl travels with me, fewer questions than if you traveled with a White man. Don’t you agree?” Bridget answers my silent question.

“Is this what you do? Escort children?”

Bridget laughs. It is not unpleasant. “Whatever you want to call it, chérie. I prefer ‘babysitting,’ or to call myself a recruiter.”

Her conversation and laughter do not fool me. Nor does the fact she is pretty and has nice clothes and a smile I am sure makes people bend to her will. But she is no better than them.

What Bridget does is worse than any of the men I have encountered. What she does is deceive and deliver. She is the siren. She is the gingerbread house used to attract and ensnare. She is Charon, the mythological Greek ferryman.

And I am the sailor to be dashed upon the craggy rocks hidden just below the surf. Hansel and Gretel to serve as a meal for the evil witch. The dead soul carried off to the underworld.

Bridget says, her voice saccharine, “Consider this as an adventure toward a brand-new life, Aninyeh. You can have whatever you’d like.”

“My freedom?” I blurt before catching myself.

“Except that.” She studies me through the darkness with a smile full of false sympathy. “Profites-en maintenant, chérie.” Live it up now, sweetheart. “With Robach, you will need these memories.”





29


AFTER


Just as Witt had said, Noble and Delphine Knight made it to the States for their American business interests and to see about their daughters. Nena and Elin were on their way downtown to meet their parents, who had arrived the previous day, planning (much to Elin’s chagrin) to stay indefinitely, or until Miami became too hot for them. They’d become accustomed to London weather and hated the muggy, stifling nature of Miami weather that the upcoming summer months would bring.

“I wonder why they didn’t wait until the Council meeting ended to come here. Dad prefers to have face-to-face meetings in London,” Elin said. “When Mum and Dad are too close, it makes me edgy.” She shot a quick glance over the rim of her oversize sunglasses at her sister sitting in the passenger side.

“Probably to decide what to do with me.”

“No, not you.” Elin checked her appearance in the sun visor, touching up her lipstick. “It’s for Lucien Douglas. They’re voting him in officially.”

Nena’s jaw tightened, but she wasn’t sure if it was from her concerns about the man or from Elin’s reckless driving. Both, she decided, digging her nails into the armrest.

“And we have the dinner with your boyfriend,” Nena reminded her. Which was why Elin was a nervous wreck and nearly about to cause one on the expressway. “But they’ve met Oliver before. What’s the big deal?”

“Yeah, but this dinner is the official official meeting. They’ve only seen him in passing, really, because they’ve been too caught up in his dad and squaring that away.” She side-eyed Nena as they pulled into the lavish grounds of the condo where their parents owned a flat. She stopped to allow the guard to open the gate. “You’re not trying to flake on me, are you?”

“I’m not.” Nena was enjoying Elin’s panic. It was rare that her older sister was ever rattled about anything.

They took the elevator to the top floor of the building, Elin complaining every step of the way.

“Do you think they’ll stay on beyond my dinner?” she asked, following Nena down the hall to where one of the family’s personal guards stood sentry at the door. Nena shrugged at Elin and nodded at the guard as he opened the door for them. She could hear her father speaking loudly from his office.

“You know how I feel claustrophobic with them in the same city,” Elin whispered in Nena’s ear. “I don’t know why they bought a flat here. Can’t they do like normal parents and stay at a hotel for a bit and then leave?”

Nena shushed her.

Delphine Knight greeted them in the foyer with a finger to her lips. She gestured for them to follow her into Noble’s office, where they could see him behind his dark mahogany desk. Several large-screen monitors lined the wall, each filled with the image of a Council member, eleven in total. The twelfth screen was blank, the one that would be for Lucien Douglas when they voted him in as representative of Gabon.