Chapter 4

Landon--

Eight Weeks Ago

In true form for me, it looks like I hit exactly the spot I was aiming for with my comment. Cora’s eyes are clouded, turned inward with whatever memories I’ve stirred up. I’m not going to fool myself into thinking she would actually tell me what kind of trauma it takes to create someone like her. Not yet, anyway. Maybe after we build some trust? She proves me right when she shakes herself back into the present and gives me a vague “I’ve always been ambitious.”

The bitter scent of lies stirs in a fresh wave through the air– like stepping on something that already stinks and exposing new surfaces to be smelled. I had almost gone nose-blind to the smell as she asked questions and sat quietly in remembrance.

All I can really do in the pursuit of trust and honesty is continue this trend of not selling her as a modern-day slave and feed her a few times a day. Until we find a routine, she won’t believe anything I have to say, and will continue to lie and evade with every chance she gets. I can’t smell the truth from lies when she always smells like the after-effect of whatever she said previously. I’m not sure how to keep her from lying besides radio silence, but I can’t force that from her without the violence she’s already half-expecting from me.

I sigh without thinking about the punch in the nose I’ll get from the scent in the room and have to break off to cough. “Yeah. Anyway, there’s a bathroom through that door with a shower and all your toiletries. I didn’t know what of the five million bottles of gunk you actually used, so I grabbed everything. Through this door,” I knock on the door I’m leaning on, “is basically a living room. I’ll try not to burst in here often– I want you to have some kind of privacy here. We’ll be mostly in there while we talk. It’s got a spot for reading and a table to eat at. I’ve got a microwave thing and mini fridge in there for you as well– I’m not positive how long you’ll be here and I’ve only got a week before I have to get back. I’ll leave you enough food for a couple days whenever I need to leave.”

Cora’s eyes widen in panic. “What do you mean, leave? What if there’s a fire and I’m stuck in here? Do you expect me to just burn to death? What if you get in a car accident and die, and I’m stuck in here to starve? You can’t just leave a prisoner unattended!” She takes one aggressive step toward me before she remembers herself and tries to calm down. I can practically see her thinking “appear docile” to herself.

Unfortunately, she has a point. Shit. “That’s our first assignment, then. You’re the smart one, according to you. So figure out a way to keep yourself safe without my constant presence. I sincerely doubt you’ll be able to escape, so something outside of that would be good.”

She scoffs. “Obviously, escape is the easiest answer to all of those problems… unless?” She raises an eyebrow at me, willing me to give up on the whole plan after I’ve already gone to all this effort.

I shake my head. “Unless what? I send you back home to write another novella about werewolves and criminals? I think not. Try again.” I can’t blame her for trying, though. I get an exasperated sigh for my trouble. She eyes the door behind me, clearly eager to explore the rest of the space available to her and no doubt tear up all my hard work searching for a way out. I silently nod back toward the bathroom. “Get cleaned up and comfortable. I’ll grab dinner. Soup okay? It seemed like soup would be the best option after you were out so long.”

She relaxes just enough to roll her eyes. “I’m not using a bathroom that probably has cameras in it.” Gross.

“Why the fuck would I want to watch you in the bathroom? That’s nasty. You can shower in peace knowing that I’ll be busy heating up our dinner. Okay?” There’s nothing I can do to make her trust me. I have to keep repeating to myself that trust is earned and I’m starting deep in the negative.

Cora hesitates, searching my face. “Okaaayy. Just a quick shower, then.” She starts backing toward the bathroom door, determined to get her shower over with before I have time to pull up any nefarious surveillance software. I pretend not to notice.

After leaving her room, crossing to her “front door” and locking it behind me, I climb the ladder I set just on the other side. It might be overkill, but I pull the ladder up behind me before crossing to the door behind my new rock wall. I don’t think I left her anything to pick locks with, and they’re not the kind of locks that should be pickable, but I wouldn’t put anything past her at this point. I guess her trust account with me is in the red, too. We both have ground to make up. I give myself one quick moment to lean against the wall and evaluate how our first meeting went, then I head into the kitchen and heat up some soup.