Nora~~
Charlie and I part ways with Tye at the elevator doors on the twelfth floor.
After what happened to Radia, I don't feel comfortable having Charlie, who I just met, take me to my new home. And especially not after I saw Marcella's note for me.
Tye had seen the map she had written on lying on the coffee table. It was when he picked it up and unfolded it that I saw she had written on the back of it.
They're watching you.
I made up some excuse to get the map back in my hands, some joke about him being too curious about wanting to see where I lived, and gave him a clean copy of the map—one that didn't have where I lived circled on it or a warning written on the back. I could only hope that he didn't see Marcella's writing through the paper.
The note is why I suggested Radia open the door holding the knife
"How are you liking Somnia?" Charlie asks as the elevator doors close.
Tye acted like not knowing anything before Somnia was normal. If Charlie really does work for the government, then I have to be normal for him.
"It's been welcoming."
I know the they in Marcella's note could have meant anyone. The mirror in the room might have been more than a looking glass for only Radia and me. But could she have meant Tye? Or even Charlie, the guy Tye wants me to work for? I can't rule them out.
We spend the rest of the elevator ride in silence. Not making eye contact, though he keeps glancing at me. For the tiniest instant when he walked into Radia's apartment, I thought I'd seen him before. I'd like to think that I wouldn't forget a face like his, but it appears that I've forgotten every face, no matter how attractive they might have been.
I think it was the green of his eyes that threw me off. A deep pine green, almost a polished emerald shade. His reddish-brown hair in the golden light of the elevators would be better called bronze.
We exit the apartment building, and Charlie asks if he should call a cab.
Radia and I planned to get the guys out of her apartment and for me to see my house before I circle back to her place where we would be able to talk freely. I don't want to be alone with Charlie in a car with no one else besides a driver who Charlie could have take us anywhere.
"Think you could show me how to navigate the subway system?" I'd like to see him try altering the course of a train.
Charlie scratches his sleeve. "I can certainly try. I haven't taken them much."
I spot a subway entrance across the street, and when we reach it, he asks for my address. I'm relieved he doesn't just know it and only give him the name of the neighborhood.
After much consideration and many glances between his phone and the sign with the lines that service this station, he finally declares that this is the right station. He doesn't sound entirely convinced.
The subway station is clean, though I was expecting grime and rats for some reason. There are no turnstiles or places to scan a ticket or to buy one for that matter. Charlie must notice my confusion because he says, "Somnia believes in free public transportation."
"Are there places that don't?"
Charlie looks as if someone just gave him an unexpected shot in the arm, and it hurt worse than it should. He turns his gaze on a map of the subway lines. "There aren't places that don't believe in it because there are no other places." How could the world be that tiny? It makes me feel too big.
"The Green Line," he suddenly declares. I come up beside him, studying the map. The last thing I want is for him to whisk me off in the opposite direction we need to go. He's right though. We just have to take the southbound train.
The train doesn't take long to arrive, and we board a near-empty car, taking two seats at one end of it.
Charlie drums his fingers over his thigh. "Tye told you about the job."
"He said you deliver messages for the government. How does that fit in with the welcoming committee? Do you need someone to put together gift baskets?"
"I work in many different departments." Transportation clearly not being one of them. "I only need an assistant for the job Tye told you about."
The train comes to a stop, the doors opening and a few more people board. Three more stops to go.
"I hope you'll give it a chance," he says once the train is moving again. He doesn't sound so hopeful. "I know it can be . . . scary when first starting out in Somnia. You'd make enough money to pay for anything you'll need." Even though he's taller than me—taller than Radia and Tye, it doesn't feel like he's looking down on me. His face shows years I don't have, not that he looks old, only that he's seen too much. His wrinkles don't seem to be from aging or laughing, but from thinking. They're there between his eyebrows at the corners of his eyes. He's striking to look at but not in the arrogant he has to know how attractive he is kind of way. His handsomeness is more subtle than that.
There's something in his expression that makes me think he's felt the same breed of confusion I've been dealing with all day, which leaves me even more puzzled. If anyone has all the answers, it should be him. He plays some role in running this city.
Maybe it's for those reasons I agree to try for the job. I definitely don't trust him. Or Tye. Maybe I shouldn't trust Radia either. But he could have the answers I so desperately want—need. I can't accept not having a past, and if I want to find out what happened to me, I'm not going to have the luxury of trusting people completely.
*****
The Green Line drops us off at the front entrance of my neighborhood. A sign that says Woodshire is plastered on a brown brick fence. The sign is the only indication of where we are. Birds chirp, and the air smells of the pine trees that grow closely together here, replacing the buildings of downtown. It's peaceful—the closest I've been to feeling relaxed this whole day.
The cottages aren't set in neat straight rows. Some are closer to the road than others, and the roads curve giving the appearance that the cottages were built around nature and that the builders didn't make nature conform to their needs.
I locate the community center and pick up my key while Charlie waits outside. When I return, he holds out a piece of white paper. Another map, this one with where he works circled and with subway directions written on the blank side.
I don't make any move to start heading toward my house, instead fiddling with the brass key the man inside gave me, so different from the keycard Radia was given. "Should I be expecting you to bring by a gift basket?"
Glancing behind him, he rakes his hand through his hair. "I'm sure you'll be getting something."
"You mean you're not the city's official gift basket deliverer?"
His lips inch upward. "Do you think I should be?"
Not able to help it, I match his not quite smile. "Do you think you should be?"
"I don't know if people would like what I have to give. But I'm sure you're eager to see your new home so I'll let you go. It's been a pleasure to meet you." He doesn't sound like he believes his own words. "Will I be seeing you tomorrow? You can wear what you have on until you can buy something else."
I make my smile come across more genuine than his earlier words were. "Yeah."
"Then all that's left for me to say—as a member of the welcoming committee—is welcome to Somnia."
Before he goes though, he pulls out some bills from his wallet and hands them to me.
I hold up my hand. "I can't."
"Consider it an advance. I know how hard it can be on your first day."
I accept it, and, after I thank him, he leaves. I walk to my cottage, noticing the sidewalks of my neighborhood are empty of life besides for a few squirrels that mill about. One freezes as I pass him, his eyes on me.
I spot my house number on a mailbox.
The cottage is small and is shaped in the same way as the rest of the houses in the neighborhood. The only difference between them are the various shades of stone that make up the exterior walls of the cottages. Mine's a light shade of gray. A chimney pokes out of the roof. It's the same as the one from the picture.
I walk up onto the porch and unlock the door with the brass key before pushing open the door.
The lights are already on, and there's a feeling in the air as if someone was just here. Both the floors and the walls are made of wood. The kitchen butts up against the living room where a stone fireplace is the focal point of room.
Lying on top of the granite counter in the kitchen is a note. Radia didn't have a note. I place my green folder beside it and pick it up.
Nora Everley,
We hope you are enjoying Somnia and are settling in well. To get you started we've taken the liberty of stocking your kitchen with groceries.
The note isn't signed.
I throw open the fridge and find it almost overflowing with food. The pantry is the same way. The counters and the drawers are all filled with plates, utensils, and cooking supplies, much more than Radia had though.
And then she got a gift basket and nothing more.
Someone was here. My palms turn slick at the thought.
In the changing room's closet, neatly pressed clothes dangle from hangers and fill the racks. All it takes is holding a few of the pieces against myself to determine they're all my size. Charlie couldn't have known about this, otherwise he wouldn't have told me to wear what I have on for work tomorrow. Radia had a spare of her gray outfit, but I don't see one for me.
At the other end of the changing room is a dresser. I pull open the drawers, finding socks and plaid and silk pajamas. The top drawers hold underwear.
Nice underwear. Lacy. Sexy. Delicate scraps of fabric.
I slam the drawers shut.
I wish I would have invited Charlie in just to be able to watch his expression when he saw all of this, to be able to demand answers.
I'm going to that job tomorrow. Charlie is my best bet for finding out who was in my house and why they left me all of this.
The last room I have to investigate is the bathroom. I say investigate because this isn't a homecoming exploration. It's like a crime scene without all the clues. A puzzle without all the pieces.
I'm going to find whatever is here though.
A clawfoot tub is set in the middle of the room. The shower, the sink, everything blurs but that tub. White, foamy bubbles rise above the brim. There are dents in the bubbles, the mass in the process of deflating. They're still too fresh for my liking.
A quick dip of my fingers reveals the water is hot.
Someone had to have been here only moments before I unlocked the front door. Charlie could have told someone we were on our way.
But why? Why all of this for me?
Thank you so much for reading and keep counting those fingers.
~Mikaela