“Maybe now it won’t,” Ben says, and my insides constrict at his voice.
“It will. Knowing the future won’t change it, only what people do about it in the present.”
“But isn’t that alone changing the future? The present is yesterday’s future, right?” Laura says.
“True, but if I saw today, yesterday, I probably would have seen the person reacting to tomorrow.”
“My brain hurts!” Thomas whines, and Ben smirks.
“Don’t worry, man, you’ll catch up one of these days.”
I feel Laura’s intense gaze and conclude she knows about the hallway incident. Does she think it was consensual? It kills me anyone would think that for even a second. I’m still furious about the attack, but decided not to report it. They’d probably move me from the suite, and I’m not ready to leave Daniel. I’ll just do everything I can to avoid that monster. If there’s a next time, it’s an immediate knee to the groin, no questions asked or time for predatory endocrine systems to engage.
The delicious food helps counter today’s horrors, and for a brief moment, I lose myself in the robust, elegant flavors. But the meal falls flat when the empty chair to my right screams back at me again. This acting thing would be a lot easier without the constant reminders of what I’m trying to hide.
“They’re showing Peter’s Revenge in the theater tonight. Do you want to come?” Lucy asks.
“Thanks, but I’m pretty tired.” I let my expression droop appropriately. “I promise I’ll start joining you soon,” I add with a weak smile.
At least I’m becoming a better liar.
Daniel’s room is dark when I return to the suite. I’m disappointed but not surprised. Is he still locked downstairs? I shudder when I enter my own, which is quickly losing its appeal, like everything else at Madison. Damn, how quickly things can fall apart.
My bed welcomes me into its soft embrace, and I gaze at the ornate ceiling for several minutes. Greek gods and goddesses play among their subjects, carefree and beautiful. The intricate painting must have taken days to create. Definitely would’ve cost a fortune. A perfect fantasy, really, and I study the details of each vignette. I could stay here forever staring at fake bliss—if only I knew how to turn off my brain.
Instead, I grunt and search my head for another distraction. Maybe I should’ve gone to the movie after all. It’s a legitimate regret, until the thought of two hours near Ben in a dark room renews my appreciation for saying no. Besides, deep down I know nothing can distract me from the real temptation.
If Daniel’s hurt, he shouldn’t have to return to a destroyed room.
I move into the common area as my limbs tingle with anxiety. Talk about stupid. Intrusive. Completely ludicrous. Even with all we shared today, he’d never forgive such a violation. In fact, he’d been very explicit that I remain out of his life, let alone break into it. Literally. But I can’t let go, and sense he isn’t as opposed to my interference as he pretends. I push through his door and flip on the lights.
A groan leaks out, and I quickly switch it back off.
“Daniel?” Using the dim light from the common area, I carefully navigate the mess on his floor to reach his bed. I turn on the lamp on his nightstand and lower myself to an open space on his mattress. “Are you okay? What did they do to you?”
He throws an arm over his face. “What do you…”
“Daniel, it’s Rebecca.” I force his arm down so he can see me. He squints up, and my heart shatters at the lost boy staring back at me.
“Rebecca?” Does he really not recognize me?
“They got you good, huh.”
Sweat drenches his face, highlighting a fresh welt. He mutters something unintelligible and slips from consciousness again. I curse and slide off the bed. After grabbing a wet cloth from his bathroom, I balance beside him and brush it along his cheek. He flinches from the contact, and blinks back slowly.
“I told you not to help me,” he mumbles, but is too weak to fight me. At least he remembers me again.
“And I told you I wouldn’t. In public.” I have to know what happened and take his hand, but the vision isn’t recent. “That woman with the dark hair is your mother?”
He pulls away, and when his eyes close, I wonder if I’m losing him again. “You’re making a big mistake.”
“Maybe, but it’s already been made. It was made the first time I saw the truth.”
I focus on working the cloth over his skin to avoid the effect of his gaze. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten? Are you thirsty?”
After a pause, he nods. Relieved to offer meaningful assistance for once, I retrieve a cup from the bathroom and go for a second when he drains it.
“I don’t have food, but I’ll get you some.”
