Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I recognized her too. “Beatrice?”
She stilled when she heard her own name. Her eyes narrowed, and her beauty faded as the consternation took up residence in her face. Claire came up behind her and peeked around her body to look at me. After a few breaths, she spoke. “How do you know our names?”
“Benton is looking for you.”
Beatrice drew a deep breath when she heard that name. “How do you know Benton?” She inched closer to me but kept her guard up, as if she didn’t understand her reality either.
Seeing this woman somehow brought me comfort, when it should only bring me fear. I was in the same situation as they were, and I would probably never get out. But knowing she was real, that she and Claire were in the same room with me right now, made me feel less alone. She wasn’t covered in bruises and scars. She didn’t have a cattle skull on her head. “He’s looking for both of you. I’m a ballet dancer, and he came backstage after a performance and asked everyone if we’d seen you.”
“Daddy is looking for us?” Claire stepped out from behind her mother.
Beatrice’s arm moved around her daughter’s shoulders.
I looked into her eyes and saw the hope, the beautiful brightness of her gaze, the innocence of a child. “Yeah, he is.”
Claire looked up at her mother. “He’ll find us, Mom. Daddy is the smartest person in the world. I know he’ll find us.”
She rubbed her daughter’s back and gave a nod, but she didn’t have the same hope in her eyes that her daughter did. She still looked pained, her beautiful features washed away by her fear. But she said what her daughter wanted to hear. “I’m sure he will, honey.”
“What is this place?” I didn’t fire off my questions right away, not when Claire was around. The bedroom might be beautiful and the girls looked healthy, but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe we’d truly stepped into heaven.
Beatrice sat on the bed beside me, her hair falling down her chest to her stomach because it was so long. She glanced into the other room to see Claire sitting up in bed with a book in her lap. She watched the girl for a moment before she turned back to me and whispered her answer. “I have no idea.”
“Have you been outside?”
“No, but we’re in the middle of a forest or something. I have no idea what our location is. Not even sure if we’re still in France.”
“How long did it take you to get here?”
“I was knocked out cold.”
“Claire too?”
“No. They didn’t drug her, but she can’t really give me any descriptions either.”
I didn’t remember a single aspect of my journey here. I’d collapsed in the street, and that was the last thing I remembered. I had no recollection of how I arrived or if it was by car or plane. They must have injected me with something strong to keep me under so deeply. “So, what do they want with us?” I feared the worst, that we would be raped, beaten, and possibly sold to someone elsewhere.
“I honestly don’t know.” She kept her eyes on the floor, the stress visible in the corners of her eyes and the purse of her lips. “We got here maybe two weeks ago, but I don’t know how much time has passed, so it might be more like a week. They bring us food, and they kinda just leave us alone in here. I haven’t been outdoors yet. All I’ve seen is the view outside the windows.”
“So…they haven’t…” My eyes glanced at Claire.
“They haven’t touched her. Either of us, actually.”
While that made me feel better, I wasn’t naïve to assume the conditions would stay that way. “What do they want with us?” I turned to look at my open closet, where the white garments hung with the wings attached. “What’s with all the white? The books on the shelf… Your daughter asked if I was an angel. Why?” I turned back to her.
Her eyes stayed down, as if she were already lifeless when our fight hadn’t even begun. “They think we’re angels.”
I stared at her blankly, not understanding the words coming out of her mouth. “What?”
She lifted her chin and looked at me.
“Like, actual angels?”
She nodded.
“Like, from heaven?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes.”
The new show my ballet company performed was about angels, an angel expelled from heaven to live a normal life on earth. I was the star angel because I was the best dancer, and I had those heavy wings attached to me every night of the show. But that was all just a production. Was that why this happened? They watched me on stage and assumed it was real? “They took me because of the show…”
“Me too.” She glanced at her daughter again, making sure she was busy reading before she turned back to me.