Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I push the pins into place and begin to manipulate them. It’s been a while since I’ve done this, but it’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget once you’ve learned. A light touch is best.
But this lock is more sophisticated than the old ones on our bedroom doors at college. After a few minutes, when I still don’t have it, I hear my name. I don’t recognize the voice, but it’s a woman and she very clearly tells whoever is asking that she’ll take them up to my room.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I glance around, I’m not sure what for, but I hear more footsteps so I rush to the door and set my ear against it. I wait until the steps recede, and once it’s quiet, I open it a crack. I hear footsteps on the stairs and slip out of the study just as one of the staff comes around the corner. She stops, clearly surprised to see me, and I smile and head toward the kitchen like I was headed there all along.
My heart hammers. The staff is busy cooking when the woman who saw me in the hallway follows me inside.
“Can I help you, Mrs. Augustine?” she asks. “I believe you’re wanted upstairs.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize. I was coming down for a snack.”
“You didn’t pass them on the stairs?”
I clear my throat and I’m sure it’s obvious I’m lying.
“Dinner is in an hour,” she says, saving me from having to answer. “What would you like?”
“An hour? I can wait then. Who’s here to see me?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am. Perhaps you should go up.”
“Yes. Good idea. Thank you.” I walk out of the kitchen and hurry up the stairs to find two people standing in the open door of Santos’s bedroom.
“I thought she’d be here. I’m so sorry, Doctor,” the younger girl says.
“Are you looking for me?” I call out, pasting what I hope looks like a relaxed smile on my face.
“There you are,” the girl says.
“I’m Dr. Fairweather,” the doctor says, walking toward me and extending his hand. “Your husband sent me.”
I shake it. “He did? He didn’t mention…”
“No?”
“I mean, I’m fine. Dr. Cummings said he didn’t think I had a concussion so I’m not sure why Santos would have called you.”
“Oh, this isn’t for that,” he says, glancing at the girl who is hovering. “Perhaps we should step into the bedroom to talk privately?”
I nod. “Thank you,” I tell the girl and invite the doctor in.
“It’s a beautiful house, isn’t it?” he asks, looking around. “I remember this place from before it was abandoned. It was something else. It’s so good to see it’s been rebuilt with such care. It’s important to preserve our history. Avarice is a special place.” It’s a strange thing to say but I don’t comment as he sets his bag down and smiles at me.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know why you’re here.”
“Mr. Augustine has asked me to provide you with a birth control shot.”
It takes me a minute. “He what?”
“Is he here? Perhaps I’ve misunderstood.”
“No. No, you haven’t. I just didn’t realize he’d arranged for you to come all the way here,” I quickly make up, not wanting to miss the opportunity even though I’m wondering why he didn’t ask Dr. Cummings or just give me back my pills.
“I didn’t mind. I wanted to get a look at the house, honestly.”
I smile, trying to process this.
“I’ll need to examine you and ask you a few questions first, but it shouldn’t take too long. If you’re ready?”
I nod. “Anything you need.”
The exam takes about twenty minutes, and, in that time, he asks me questions about my cycle and explains how the shot works. I wish he were a woman, but if the end result will be reliable birth control, I’ll take it. He’s just preparing the injection when the bedroom door opens, and we both turn to find Santos standing in the doorway. He looks impeccable in a bespoke three-piece suit in deepest blue.
My heartbeat picks up and I feel my face begin to burn with guilt for what I did. Does he know? No. How could he? But his expression is dark, and I see the smile he puts on for the doctor is forced as he enters and closes the door behind him.
“Mr. Augustine, you have a lovely home.”
“Thank you, Dr. Fairweather. I appreciate you coming out on such short notice,” he says, the words forced.
“Like I told your wife, my reasons were not entirely unselfish.”
Santos smiles a tight smile.
“Well, I don’t want to intrude on your evening. And I’m almost finished here.” The doctor unwraps an alcohol swab and cleans the injection site. It’s hard to hold Santos’s gaze, so I look at the needle instead—which is not a great idea either, so I stare at the far wall. “I was just explaining to be on the safe side you’ll want to use contraception for the next week or so but after that, this should protect you for the next three months. I’ll leave a packet with more details, and you are always free to call my office. Ready?” he asks me.