Elias does not appear at the next shareholders' meeting. I cackle smugly to myself and wait for Aimée to look at me in perplexity so I can shoot her a conspiratorial glance.
But she doesn't look. She doesn't ask why he's not there, and no one tells her. She keeps half an eye on the door the whole time, and I wonder if I've done the right thing.
Then we go home, except we're not allowed in, because it's a crime scene. Two doormen, recently untied and ungagged, are massaging their wrists and cheeks. A hysterical young woman is sobbing to the gendarmes. Aimée recognizes her first: It's the nanny we hired for Sim.
Sim isn’t there. No one knows where he is.
YOU ARE READING
Dispatch from a Colored Room
Science FictionPel has a story to tell. There's the girl who grew up destitute, addicted, single mother to a son she can't protect; the father who left the family, then disappeared; the old family friend, angel and demon both; the Dandelion Knight. But why tell it...
