The Writing Retreat(82)

So Taylor wasn’t really in charge, despite the way she was acting: ordering us around, commanding Chitra to stay and go.

“You don’t know?” I asked.

Taylor’s eyes blazed. “Excuse me?”

I finished the second bowl and set it down. “I would’ve thought you’d know.”

“I do know.” Taylor was indignant.

“She’s just making you do the dirty work.” Zoe had picked up on my thoughts. “When did she hire you? How much does she pay you?”

“Roza doesn’t pay me.” Taylor scoffed. “She’s my girlfriend.”

There was a short, stunned silence.

“But,” Wren’s voice warbled. “You said your girlfriend’s name was Kitty.”

“That’s my nickname for her.” Taylor smirked.

I thought suddenly of my first night at Blackbriar, hearing the sounds of lovemaking coming from Roza’s chambers.

It hadn’t been her editor Ian at all. It had been Taylor.

Zoe recovered first. “So that’s the reason Roza keeps you around.” She grimaced. “Not because you’re some lowly schoolteacher pretending to be a genius writer.”

“You want genius?” Taylor stood and towered over us. “How about Maiden Pink? Ever hear of that? Well, guess who fucking wrote it?”

“Taylor.” Another voice came through the loudspeaker. It was Yana’s: monotonic, expressionless. “Come upstairs. Roza wants you.”

Yana’s calm voice was like an icicle pressed against my spine. Of course she was in on it too.

Taylor wore a disgusted sneer. “You four act like you’re such hot shit. But you’re pathetic. Your books aren’t even that good.”

“Taylor.”

Taylor flinched at Yana’s sharp tone. “Coming.” With a final glare at us, she left through the basement.

I turned to Zoe. “You were right. Roza uses other people to write her books.”

Zoe was licking the inside of her bowl. “Duh.”



* * *



My stomach burbled from the meal and it was a toss-up as to whether the food would stay down. I peed behind the screen, gagging at the scent of my urine combining with Keira’s bile, which lined the bowl. What happened when this camping toilet got full?

We sat on the futon like it was a boat in the middle of the ocean. Minutes passed, melting into hours.

And then, finally, the door opened. Roza strode in with Taylor close behind. We jumped to our feet, moving as if by magnetic force towards the bars.

“Hello, girls.” Roza waited in the middle of the entryway. Taylor set down a stool and Roza settled herself on it like a regal queen visiting her prisoners. Her jasmine perfume wafted over us. “How’s everyone feeling?”

Finally, Keira spoke for all of us: “Are you fucking serious right now?”

Taylor’s expression was disturbingly anticipatory as she gently set down a heavy tote bag. Roza, on the other hand, looked slightly annoyed, as if we’d interrupted her plans for the day. She wore a chunky knit gray dress, red lipstick, and platform boots. Seeing her on the other side of the bars, the concrete wall behind her, she looked like she was ready to pose for some artsy magazine.

“I know you’re upset.” Roza held up a hand. “And I understand that. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.” Her gaze landed on Zoe. “But I didn’t know we had an interloper in our midst.”

“Roza?” Now Wren was using her calm, charming voice even though it was shakier than usual. “This is all a mistake. A total misunderstanding. If you let us out, we can talk about it.”

“Wren, darling.” Roza gazed at her with affection. “My beautiful bird. I wish that were the case. It was more fun playing with you all upstairs. This is going to be a bit more tedious. But c’est la vie. You all wanted—needed—to figure out the riddle. So here we are.” She looked at Taylor, who picked up the tote bag and approached the bars.

“Back up, please,” Taylor ordered. I noted the “please”; she was only using it because Roza was there. We retreated a few feet and sat. Taylor tossed in water bottles through the door. They rolled towards us. Zoe opened hers immediately, guzzling it down. I forced myself to take only a few sips. It was like liquid gold coating my throat, which had been made dryer by the coffee and salty stew.

“Now, girls,” Roza went on. “I know that this is a surprise. But since we’re here, let’s try to make the best of it.”

Keira scoffed. She’d left her bottle in front of her, untouched.

“You can be mad at me; that’s fine.” Roza folded her hands. “But you’re entering a survival situation now.”

“Survival?” Wren sounded panicky.

“Don’t interrupt me.” Roza’s voice was suddenly cold.

I reached out and grasped Wren’s hand.

“I don’t like whining,” Roza went on, her voice clipped. “Understood? Here’s what’s going to happen. You have two options. You can sit in this cell and die of thirst. It will only take a few days. We still have a week and a half left of this retreat, so no one will miss you until it’s too late.”

“That’s a lot of bodies, Roza,” Zoe said. “How will you explain that?”