I will find her.
I don't know how.
But I am completely, devastatingly clear-headed.
And I am going to use every bit of it.
CHAPTER 4
THEA
Iwait until the house goes completely quiet.
I sit on the edge of the bed, still in my black dress, watching the sliver of light under my door until it goes dark. I listen for the sounds of the house settling—footsteps in the distance, doors closing, the low murmur of voices fading to nothing.
Then I wait another half hour, just to be sure.
When I’m ready, I take a deep breath and stand up.
I step out of the heels and make my way to the closet. I open the doors slowly, half-expecting Gabriel to be waiting inside, ready to grab me and throw me in the dungeon, which I’m sure this house has.
The lights in the closet turn on automatically as I open the doors. I gasp when I see what’s inside.
Clothes, just like Oscar had said. But there are somany—jeans, slacks, dresses, tops. I step inside, catching designer label after designer label. And they’re all in my size.
How is that possible?
I push the thought out of my mind. Doesn’t matter. Among the racks of gorgeous shoes, I spot some sneakers. They’re next to a pair of sleek Louboutins. I’m half tempted to take them as a consolation prize for this insane night. But I keep my greed in check, slipping on a pair of socks and sneakers before heading back into the bedroom.
First, I check the window. It doesn’t open. I try a few more times, pressing at the frame until my palms ache, but it won’t budge.
I crack open the bedroom door and peer into the hallway. It’s empty and dark, except for the faint glow of sconces along the walls, casting everything in amber shadow.
I slip out, my shoes silent on the hardwood floor, and move as quickly and as quietly as I can. My heart is hammering so hard that I’m sure someone will hear it, but I force myself to keep going, past closed doors and paintings of stern-looking people dressed in old-fashioned clothes, all the way to the top of the stairs.
A plan begins to take shape in my mind. I’ll figure out a way to scale the gate, and then I’ll yell until someone comes to help.
As soon as I get home, I’ll start tracking down Sylvie. As long as it takes, I’ll find her.
Once I’m at the top of the stairs, I pause and take a breath. The long night, the stress… it’s all starting to catch up with me. I feel weak and dizzy, but I press on.
The foyer below is cavernous and silent. All I need to do is get down the stairs, go out the front doors, and run.
I take the stairs slowly, gingerly testing each one, praying none of them creak. My pulse sounds too loud in my ears.
Soon, I’m twenty feet away from the front doors.
Ten.
Five.
“Going somewhere?”
I freeze.
Gabriel Moretti steps out of the shadows near the sitting room, still dressed in his shirt and trousers, tie gone, collar open. He looks completely unsurprised, like he’s been waiting.
“I—” my voice catches in my throat. I force it steady. “I need to leave. Now.”