“I’m coming! I’m coming. Just got out of the shower! One minute!” She stared down at her table. It wasn’t really a kitchen table, as she didn’t really have a kitchen. She had a studio, and therefore she just had furniture in one room. But it was the only table she had.
And she had carved something into the surface of it.
Whatever it was, she had no clue. It was an enormous shape—it took up the entire circular wood top. It was a geometric shape. A square, with a circle within it, and then another square, and a triangle, and on it went. Writing was etched around the diameter of the first circle in what looked like ancient cuneiform. She had no idea what it meant.
Even stranger still, was that it was in four pieces. She had carved it split up into four pieces. How she had managed to do that and still keep all the lines perfectly straight, and the circles perfect, she…had no idea. She was a decent artist, but she didn’t draw with mathematical precision.
She let out a whine of dismay. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” With a shaking hand, she went to get dressed. The person at the door would be pissed if she left them there for too—
“Shit!”
It was Gideon!
With a loud groan, she threw on clothing as fast as she could. For a second, she forgot that it was the day of her home visit. Brushing her hair quickly, she put on a little bit of makeup—just enough to make it look like she tried—and haphazardly yanked her comforter up over her bed. “I’m coming!”
Stopping to stare at her table, she didn’t know what to do. It was covered in wood chips, shavings, and a weird carved shape. She sighed. There was nothing she could do. What, quickly grab the vacuum cleaner and pretend Gideon couldn’t hear it from the other side of the door?
Knock, knock, knock.
Much more polite that time. But still insistent. Well, it was time to face the music. “Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m such a fuck up.”
Heading to the door, she put her hand on the deadbolt. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and after a pause, undid the latches. Pulling it open, she smiled at the man on the other side. “So sorry about that. It’s rare that I get hot water, and I guess I got—”
She froze.
It wasn’t Gideon.
Father Rinaldo Lenci pushed past her and went inside before she could stop him. He shut the door behind himself.
“Hey! Get the fuck out of my home. You can’t just barge in here and—”
“I have new orders.” Rinaldo turned to her, his expression cold. Fear rolled over her in a wave. “Make this quiet and easy for me, Marguerite. Pack a bag. You’re coming with me. I’ll explain in the car.” He opened his coat to reveal that he was carrying a revolver. “And before you mouth off at me, you know I can make you. We don’t have much time.”
Fear was replaced with terror.
She was still holding the steak knife in her hand. It was the one she had used to carve the table. She didn’t know what else to do.
No. I’m not going to go quietly. “No mouthing off?”
“I’d appreciate it. I’d hate to have to tranquilize you.” He smiled faintly, but it was clear he wasn’t enjoying this.
“Fine. No mouthing off.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing that. You promise?”
“I promise. No mouthing off.” She tightened her grip on her knife.
And then jumped at him with it.