The Writing Retreat(67)

With a last questioning look at me, Wren dipped her head. “Okay.”

“Wonderful.” A slow, easy smile spread over Roza’s face. “Ladies, I knew you were warriors. We’re going to continue our journey together despite the setbacks. And we will prevail. Yes?” She reached out and grabbed a pain au chocolat as she stood.

“And the police?” Wren asked. “You said you’re going to radio them again?”

“Yes.” Roza raised a finger. “I will do that right now.”

I could hear the unspoken ending: Before I forget.

After Roza left, Taylor groaned and rubbed the top of her head, leaving blond tufts sticking up. I regarded her, then made up my mind.

“Guys, I think we should talk.” I stood. “With Keira. Meet upstairs in ten?”

They agreed, watching with curiosity as I hurried to the hall.

Roza was wearing platform boots that day and her heels thudded against the rugs and runners. In socks, I followed like a silent ghost. She strode across the front hall, footsteps squeaking against the marble. She was humming faintly to herself.

The act of following caused fear to wrap around my throat. Not that I was afraid she’d catch me, necessarily: I could just say I had a question for her.

Maybe it was the horror of what I might hear.

She swept into the study, shutting the door behind her. I crept up to it and pressed my ear against the door.

Nothing.

I wondered, standing there, if perhaps the door was just thick and heavy enough to obscure any sounds. But then I heard Roza cough, clear as a bell. The wooden floor creaked as she walked across the room. She resumed humming. Maybe Roza needed a moment, but there was no reason it should take this long to radio the police.

Unless she wasn’t planning to.

“You need help?”

I jumped. Yana, who’d snuck up on me in athletic shoes, stood with her hands on her hips. Today her tracksuit looked even tighter than usual, showing off her small, compact limbs. It struck me that she looked like a coach, maybe of girls’ gymnastics, and one you definitely didn’t want to mess with.

“I’m fine.” I straightened, forcing a smile. “I just had a question for Roza.”

Yana glared without answering. The door swung open.

“Oh, hello.” Roza looked back and forth between us. “All okay, ladies?” She closed the door behind her.

“She was waiting for you.” Yana crossed her arms.

“Yes, dear?” Roza gazed at me, gracious but impatient.

“I—I just wanted to know what the police said. When they were coming. Just so I know.” I willed my voice to sound light, trusting.

“Right.” Her eyes softened. “They’re going to get here as soon as they can. Likely this afternoon.” To my surprise, she slipped an arm around my shoulders. “You’re a very kind girl, Alex. I can see how much you care.”

Coming from Roza, I didn’t know if this was a compliment or an insult.

“I’ll see you at dinner. Get to writing, okay?” She released me and walked away. Yana watched me a second longer before following her.

I pretended to be heading upstairs, pausing in the front hall and then doubling back.

I grabbed the office’s doorknob. Roza hadn’t used the radio to contact the police just now, which meant that I needed to. Even if this was some ruse Roza was pulling, I couldn’t let it continue. Not with the possibility of death hanging over us. I could put up with a lot, especially from someone I admired, but not this.

But when I tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move.

The door was locked.





Chapter 25




Upstairs, I found the others waiting in Wren’s room, all clustered on her bed. I closed the door firmly and settled next to Keira, who was lying back with her eyes closed.

I now had proof that something was definitely off. It was time to tell everyone, not just Wren. It wasn’t fair to let them believe Zoe was dead, not if there was a chance she wasn’t.

“What’s going on?” Taylor played with her rabbit necklace.

“Roza didn’t radio anyone.” I clasped my hands together in my lap. “I waited outside the door and listened.”

“Jesus,” Keira muttered, covering her face.

“Are you sure?” Wren asked.

“One hundred percent sure.” I heaved a sigh. “I also discovered something in the basement and now I have a theory. It’s… kind of a lot. And I don’t know if it’s true. But I feel like you guys need to hear it.”

Keira sat up and Taylor waved a hand. “Theorize away, please.”

As I told them about the secret keypad, the security camera, and my new suspicions about Zoe, I expected to see looks of disbelief. Instead, they listened intently.

After I finished, Taylor chewed at a thumbnail, staring into space. Wren’s eyes stayed trained on me, horrified. Keira went to the window, leaning her forehead against the glass.

“That crazy bitch,” she said in a conversational tone.

“So what do we do?” Taylor asked.

“You guys believe me?” I’d have expected relief, but instead I felt even more disturbed. The theory was hardening into actual possibility.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Keira said.