“I am, too.”
I follow him back to Luca’s room. On the bed are clothes. Real, actual clothes.
“Luca said to shower and get dressed. You have one hour before we need to leave.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he says, as if I didn’t hear him the first time.
“Right. Are you coming with me?”
He nods. “But we can’t go until you shower. You smell like Luca.”
My face flames, but I don’t think he notices. He leaves, closing the door behind him. The clothes are things I would usually wear. Jeans, a nice top, and comfortable shoes. All new, with tags, and all in my size. The bra and panties have me smiling. I never thought I’d miss wearing a bra, but being forced to go without one has been a lot. I’m smiling as I go to the bathroom to shower. Again, I find myself surprised. There’s a razor, make-up, and hair products. How did he have time to pull this off? And why?
One hour later, I open the door of the bedroom and find Maurice waiting.
“You look so pretty, birdie.”
“Thank you, Maurice.”
“Let’s go.”
He leads me to the first floor and right outside. The ground is covered in snow, and I should probably ask for a coat, but I don’t. Instead, I pause in the doorway.
“What’s wrong?”
“Are you sure this is okay?”
He nods. “Positive.”
“Maurice, I really don’t want to make Luca mad.”
“I won’t be mad,” Luca says from behind me.
Henri is at his side. I wish I knew him better so I could tell what the look on his face meant. He does give me a small nod, which is better than nothing. I don’t think he’d let me leave if Luca was going to kill me. At least, I hope not.
Luca says, “Enjoy your day. There will be another surprise when you get home.”
“Not afraid I’m going to ask for help while I’m out?”
I meant it teasingly, but it comes out more serious.
“I can’t stop you. All I can do is ask that you give me a chance.”
Why does it feel like he’s asking for so much more? And why do I want to say yes? Turning, I follow Maurice outside to the waiting SUV. He opens the back door for me before getting into the driver’s seat. We pull away from the house, the tires crunching in the snow.
“Is it crazy that I’m scared?”
I don’t expect him to answer, but I just need to talk.
He says, “Don’t be scared, birdie. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
“Why do you call me birdie?”
“Because that’s what you are. A dove. I had a birdie before. She was pretty, just like you.”
“What was her name?”