Fall by Autumn Archer

14

“Iris, you’re so pale. Like paler than usual. Can I get you anything?” Sal drops his pen and scoots out from under the desk. “You haven’t said a word for hours.”

Earlier, Sal escorted me to the medical facility after Dante’s chopper disappeared into the cloudless azure. When my knees weakened, he slid an arm around my waist and offered his strength as a crutch.

Dante’s absence shouldn’t have hit me as hard as it did. I was leaving in the morning anyway, but that kiss, our passion, the unspoken meaning, then he left so suddenly. His eyes said everything I desperately wanted to hear from his mouth. He robbed me of time and stole away the opportunity to tell him how I really feel, even if it still meant we would be oceans apart. At least I would be blessed with his truth and honesty. That was the very quality he demanded from me.

I’m deep in thought as Laoch sleeps soundly on my lap. He’s doped up on a herbal tincture rubbed on his gums by none other than Dante Valez. For a man prepared to shoot the vulnerable little guy in the head, he certainly went to great lengths to appease his pain.

Jackson reassured me that Laoch will be well enough to return to the wild by the morning. He also admitted a secret about Dante, alleging he’s a master of blending natural remedies. Apparently, the locals schooled him on the benefits of indigenous plants and the healing properties of Amazonian flora. In his own way, he’s an eco-warrior, just like me. Which is why he made an exception for the biologists, granting permission for strangers to erect a temporary lab close to his resort.

“Do you want to go to the cabana?” Sal rubs his eyes and stretches his arms to the ceiling. “We need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” I sigh, letting my head drop back. The antsy gnawing in my chest has starved me of feelings. “I’d rather hang out with Laoch while he’s resting. When he wakes up, he won’t know where he is.”

“You’ll be hungry at some point. I’ll ask the kitchen staff to prepare a few meals and send them here if you like. That way you can stay close to him.” He nods at the blanket in my arms.

“Okay,” I say with little energy.

Laoch’s weighty warmth siphons comfort to my heavy soul. His steady heartbeat and gentleness of breath settles the ruckus in my chest. I found a home in el Fantasma’s violence and a belonging in Dante’s eyes. Now I’m unsure where I fit in, where my place in this world should be. It’s not here anymore, and I don’t think it’s at home either.

I know he made love to me. The sensation burst inside me like the sun exploding. It showered both of us with sunbeams, and then he crossed over to the other side. Back into the darkness where he belongs. The very place he warned he would ultimately revisit.

None of this should have happened. I thought I was ready for the adventure of a lifetime, which turned out to be him. Nothing could have prepared me for Dante. No one has ever kissed me the way he did, and I doubt another man ever will. Not with pain, purpose and longing.

I know I’ll be okay eventually. Emmie, with her big heart and sweetness, is waiting for me at our family home. I won’t have to question love; they will offer it unconditionally. The Earth will continue to rotate in the incomprehensibly enormous universe. Iris Kitson will be resurrected.

For hours, I’ve sat here replaying our last kiss, searching for a reason to hate him and coming up with more reasons not to. I’m yanked away from the memory when Sal sinks into the couch beside me. “Iris.” His hand covers mine. “Although it’s tough right now, this really is the best way forward.”

“I know it is,” I murmur, flicking my gaze sideways to find caring eyes. “I’m ready to fly home.” The lie floats to the rafters.

Sal makes himself comfortable. “His vendetta is the driving force behind everything he does. Don’t take it personal. Nothing can compete with it. Not even you.”

My heart spasms. “I understand why he’s going after those people and I also know one day he’ll reach the end of that path, and then he’ll be empty. He’ll need a new life and a new focus,” I point out. “What will he do then?”

“It won’t stop there.” He shrugs. “And to be honest, I don’t think it ever will. He’s a vigilante for justice. It’s surpassed his sister's murder and grown into something so much deeper. The guy is used to a life of solitude. It’s his rules or nothing at all.”

I glare at him suspiciously. “I thought you didn’t know about his past?”

He turns towards me with a slight smile. “When you first asked, I didn’t. If I had known, I still wouldn’t have told you. It’s his business, and I respect his privacy. That doesn’t mean you and I aren’t friends, Iris. If a man is dishonest, he’s worthless.”

I nod, understanding his ethics. “How did you find out about her?”

“He gave me a brief rundown. Her killer is coming to the Oasis and will remain in complete isolation. He’s staying in an off-site location. No one, except a few of el Fatasma’s team are allowed west of here.” The comforting hand leaves, balling on his lap. “I’m running the show until the task is finished.”

Once he’s pulled the trigger.

“If you’re in charge, perhaps you could get me out of here this evening?”

He stares back at me, a little uncertain. “I suppose I could…”

The idea has merits and one obvious downside. Laoch. Sal is too busy to monitor him closely, and Jackson has patients. Freedom is within reach, albeit a one-way ticket out of the Oasis in the early hours of the morning.

I take a few moments to run it over in my head. Sal gives me space to think, glancing at me every few minutes. My face remains straight even though my lungs feel tighter. “If it’s the cub you’re worried about, I’ll take him into the rainforest myself,” he adds.

I contemplate the answer for a moment before I finally decide to follow through on my responsibility. “I will watch over him tonight,” I answer, accepting that time isn’t on my side. I won’t be able to release him before I leave. “Something worthwhile should come from this trip. I’m going back to Scotland with an empty notebook and memories I’ll take with me to my grave. At least I’ll have a story to tell Emmie about the cute cub I rescued.” I shrug with indifference. “Promise me you’ll drop him at the boundary once I’m gone?”

“I give you my word.” He slants into me. “Having you around changed him. I saw it, and so did he.”

“Did he say something to you?” I whisper, behind a nervous breath.

“It’s not what he said. He still doesn’t talk about personal stuff. I know he’s sending you away because he—”

“He thinks it’s for the best.” I finish his sentence with a slight sigh.

Sal pushes deeper into the couch and kicks his ankle up to the opposite knee. “I was about to say, it’s obvious he cares too much for you.” He side eyes me, offering a reassuring smile. “Maybe one day you two will find each other again. But for now, there needs to be thousands of miles between you both. For your sake and his. I’m assuming you know about his sister?” he asks seriously, making my gut pinch. “If anything bad happened to you… Well, I’d dread to be part of the fall out.”

My heart slams against my ribs in the new silence. Laoch fidgets, searching for another cozy spot. Dante and beija flor never had a future together. “I wish things could’ve been different. This is the life he’s created. He craves blood more than he desires relationships. Anyway…” I sigh in resignation. “My family deserves to know I’m alive.”

“I’ll write to you. We should keep in touch.” He snakes his arm around my neck and nudges my shoulder with his. “And don’t worry, I’ll ask him first before I send a letter.”

I tense, wishing the half hug was Dante, but thankful for a shred of compassion. “I’d like that.”

“Right, I’ve got a job to do.” With a final friendly squeeze, he takes back his arm and stands. “I’ll show you to your allocated recovery room.”

I’m drained. Emotionally charged and physically spent. Even the forearms cradling Laoch burn with exhaustion. I’d rather not spend my last night in a clinical facility. “Can I stay in his treehouse? I know the way. It’s peaceful and secure. And the perfect place to rest for the night before I leave the rainforest forever.”

He crosses his arms, considering my request. “You know he won’t arrive in the middle of the night and beg you to stay? You’ll be long gone before he returns.”

“This has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me.” I scowl up at him, almost huffing. “The treehouse is so high in the treetops that the only risk is the parrots.”

Sal scratches his clean-shaven cheek. His forehead wrinkles as the weight of his pending decision runs riot in his mind. “Fine.” He shakes his head lightly. “I guess he won’t mind. But please, promise me you’ll be at the helipad at first light.”

I flex my neck a little, relieved. “Thank you.” The sincerity of my smile reaches up to him, so he smiles back. “We’ll be there.”

“Promise me, Iris. No funny business.”

“Trust me. I’d never do anything to get you in trouble.”

“You won’t get me in trouble—you’ll get me killed.”

The moment his tone slips to grave, the facility doors swing open. “Sal.”

I recognize the young woman who challenged the hatred I harbored for my stunning captor. Carina.

My head turns to the entrance. She’s all lean legs, fluttering lashes and sunny aura.

Sal turns his whole body, widening his arms to welcome his sister with a hug. A string bag swings from her right shoulder and a waterfall of glossy hair covers her spine like molasses. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

She fidgets with the woven strap digging into the skin by her neck. “He asked me to bring clothes.” Her gaze whips to mine. The slight drop of her jaw and soft gasp doesn’t go unnoticed. Then, just as quickly, she looks at her brother like I’m invisible.

“Of course he did.” Sal glances over his shoulder at me. “Iris, this is my little sister Carina… Cari, this is Iris.”

“Finally.” I smile up at her side profile, forcing myself to be courteous. It’s not her fault I’ve fallen from the sky and broken my wings. “Hey, it’s nice to meet you.”

The corners of her perfectly shaped lips hitch a fraction, and she crosses her arms over a bare midriff. “Yeah. Nice to meet you too.” Although she’s spoken, our eyes don’t connect. The golden glow fringing her curves turns brittle for a split second. “Aren’t you going to offer me a coffee, Sal?” She nudges her elbow into his arm, refusing to engage with me anymore than she has to. “And Papa wants to know when you’ll be home.”

“Iris, do you want a coffee?” Sal swivels in his boots, taking a few steps and then stopping.

I watch the sensual sway of her hips as she follows closely behind him. Wondering why she seems disinterested in me. Not that I expected us to ever meet or become gal pals. But I’m another female in a predominantly male environment. A woman. Surely that’s enough of a reason to be friendly.

“Yeah. Thanks,” I say as he reaches for a box under the coffee machine.

Keeping a distance, she ignores me completely. “When will you grace the family with your delightful company?” Carina quirks a brow and perches on the end of the reception desk. “They haven’t seen you in weeks. It would be nice if you showed your ugly face occasionally, you know. I’ll speak to el Fantasma. He’ll give you permission for a vacation if I ask him.”

“He’s not here, Cari. I’m in charge while he’s away.”

Her pretty face scrunches. “Where is he?”

The smell of roasted coffee fills the reception area as hot liquid spurts into an espresso cup. “None of your business.”

“Is he okay? He never leaves the Oasis. Is it her fault?” An accusing glare slides my way. “What happened?”

“Cari, take your coffee.” Sal offers her the hot drink. “Why don’t you show Iris what’s in your bag. I’m guessing the clothes are for her?” He avoids her snippy questions.

She takes a slow sip, musing over a response. “He asked me to bring her clothes for travelling in. Apparently, she’s leaving in a rush, and he didn’t have time to buy her anything new. So I picked out a few things from my wardrobe.”

“That was kind of you.” I project my friendliest smile, only to be left hanging. If she wasn’t Sal’s sister, I’d call her out.

“He’s giving me money to replace them,” she says, matter-of-factly. Her shoulders lift and drop in a beat while she stares down at the coffee. “It works out better for me. He’s very generous. Isn’t he, Sal?”

Laoch expels a contented sigh. Carina’s hair whips as her head snaps around so we finally lock eyes. “What was that? Did you just sigh at me?” Her brow furrows and lips pout in silent shock. A flash of uncertainty washes over her tight expression. I notice how her muscles stiffen, and she palms her belly like the tough exterior is ready to crumble. She looks lost and unsure. And ready to fight at the same time. Her defensive response reminds me of someone.

“It was this little guy.” I lift the corner of the blanket. “This is Laoch. The jaguar cub we rescued.”

Carina straightens her spine, narrowing her eyes. “You have a real cub?” she says to the breathing bundle of linen.

“Yeah,” Sal chimes in. “El Fantasma and Iris saved him this morning. Can you two keep out of trouble while I run to the cabana? The chef is being dramatic over supplies.” Sal sets a tiny mug on the coffee table adjacent to me. “I’ll bring dinner back with me and walk with you to the treehouse.”

I’m grateful for his thoughtfulness, but his pity chokes me. We’ve become allies in a formidable world––I’m leaving him behind too. The sooner I put all the heartache behind me, the easier it will be to return to normal. Whatever the hell normal is now. “It’s okay. I’ll make my own way there. He has plenty of fresh fruit and liquor sitting around.” I smirk. “Honestly, Sal, I could use the alone time.”

“I get it.” He stares right at me. “Okay, I’ll see you at sunrise. If you need anything––anything at all, use his radio transmitter.”

“Got it.” I nod once. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right, then. Cari, I’ll meet you back here. Don’t wander off. I need you out of here before nightfall.” He kisses his sister on the cheek and whispers in her ear. “She’s not like them.”

I look at Carina, whose eyebrows are as high as mine. She glances over at me and then pivots towards Sal. “I’ll be right here waiting for you, Salvador. Just like Mama is waiting for her long lost son to come home.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been busy.”

“You’re always busy.” She swats his arm as he walks away. “Mama misses you. Papa just wants to beat you at cards again.”

Sal waves his hand in the air like he’s swatting a fly. “Later.”

An awkward silence creeps in when the door closes behind him. Carina pivots to face me and folds her arms with serious set brows scrunched above judging eyes. “What does the name you gave the jaguar mean?” She weaves around the low table and stops at the armrest. Her exotic scent hits me, and I find glossy caramel skin prickled from the air conditioning.

“It's a Scottish word for warrior. I thought it was appropriate.”

I’ve encountered mean girls before. Girls who picked on the odd one out. A gaggle of snobbish teens who snickered behind their hands when I walked into the room. Huntresses who verbally annihilated the different kids to place themselves higher in the social ranking. I was far from weak back then. If anything, their taunts and jeers made me more determined to succeed. I stuck up my middle finger from the window of my aircraft in a singular gesture to each one of them. It was my smug way of getting revenge and flipping off those girls as I boarded a flight to Brazil to follow my dreams.

Carina’s inhospitable welcome implies suspicion. Not rivalry. Fidgety fingers grooming the lengths of her hair tell me she’s timid and weary. A delicate butterfly in the mouth of a wildcat.

Sable lengths map her shoulders, agitated by a brusque shake of her head. “You need to let him go.” She unfolds her arms and shelves her hands on her hips. “He belongs in the jungle with his mother.”

I sit upright, matching her frosty glare. “I know he does. Sal gave me his word that he’ll set him free once I leave.”

“That's good.” She runs her tongue along her upper lip. “He said you were injured, too. That you had a scar on your face.”

I turn my cheek and tilt my head. “It's mostly healed now. If you look close enough, you’ll see it.”

“Yet, you’re still beautiful.” Her comment takes me by surprise. “Now I understand,” she adds.

My brows snap together. “Understand what?”

“You suit each other.” The woven bag drops to my feet. “He’s gorgeous, and you’re his equal. I hated girls like you when I was younger.”

I bring my attention to the fingertips constantly patting her lip. It’s a nervous reaction. A subconscious check for a past defect.

“Carina…” I begin, aware of the few years age-gap and her tragic past. We’ve all gone through shit. Not just her. That doesn’t give her the right to cast me into the mold of a villain.

“I’m talking about the pretty, popular girls.” She cuts me off. “The bitches who made fun of me every day. Picture perfect girls who had the pick of any guy they wanted. They were gifted with beauty, and I was cursed with a grotesque growth above my lip. You’re just like them. Stunning. Lucky. And you’ve caught his attention.”

Out of everything she just said, my temper ignites at one word. “Lucky?” I say with a growl. “You don’t know a thing about me. Don’t stand there acting like the victim when you’re the one who looks like a swimwear model. So you had a growth once upon a time.” I shrug. “Now you don’t. In fact, your lips are amazing, and your Cupid’s bow is perfectly defined. Jackson clearly worked a miracle.” Her lashes spring upwards. “I can’t change the curls in my hair, extend my legs a few inches or erase my ugly freckles. And I’m certainly not the slightest bit lucky.” I pause a second to breathe. “And I don’t have his attention anymore. We both know he’s not here.”

She plonks down beside me, bends her legs at the knees and tucks the heels of black sandals to her buttocks. Being so close, I detect a thread thin scar edging her lip line.

“Do you really like my lips?” Cautious fingers cage her mouth as she processes my rant. “Jackson used filler to even them out after the operation. It was a gradual process. I still wake up in the mornings and forget it’s gone. I have nightmares about that horrible thing. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. The one thing el Fantasma and I have in common is our trust issues.” She dabs the corner of her mouth as she laughs lightly. “Would you believe I’ve never had a stranger tell me my lips are amazing?” Her judgement disappears and a ghost of a smile plays behind her fingers.

“He did a great job.” I tell her the truth. “It sounds like we both had a hard time with our own differences.” She nods gently. “Anyway, we aren’t strangers. I’m friends with Sal. So that makes us allies.” In the end, it doesn’t even matter what we are to each other.

Carina plucks a messy spiral from my shoulder, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger. “I can see why he’s fascinated with you.” Her intimate gaze runs the length of my hair. “When Sal told me your face was cut, I felt sorry for you. I thought el Fantasma pitied you more than anything.” She lets it go. “I don’t know what I expected, but when I saw you sitting here… I was shocked at how striking your features are. You aren’t ugly or ruined. And then I realized el Fantasma doesn’t look at you with sympathy. He’s attracted to you.”

I almost laugh, feeling less insulted by her explanation. It couldn’t have been easy dealing with a visibly intrusive birthmark. At least I wasn’t the only girl in school with flaming red hair. “Are you in love with him?” I don’t want to hear the answer, yet I ask the question, anyway.

Her brows pop up. Dark tips flick out when she flips her hair behind her back. “God no. I used to have a crush on the guy a long time ago. He gave me a life I never thought I would have. Opened doors for my future. But…” Her eyes sparkle. “We met when I was a young teenager. He’s never looked at me that way. Anyway, the guy is way too old for me.” She giggles. “El Fantasma is my mentor and only friend. I care about him a lot. Nothing more than that. I asked him one day why he didn't want a girlfriend. And you know what he said?” I shake my head slowly. “I’ll never find a woman to love who is worthy of my trust. And if she exists, I pray we never meet.” Carina mocks his deep voice. “I guess he found you after all.”

“Yeah, unfortunately for both of us, fate had other ideas.”

Carina stretches out her legs. She folds her torso and drags the bag onto the couch. “I’ll take the cub while you check out what I picked for you.” She reaches across and scoops Laoch into her arms. The absence of his heat runs shivers through me. “I wasn’t sure what size you were, so I went for dresses. You can’t go wrong with a dress, right?”

I tug on the drawstring and pull out floral material after floral material. “I only need one.” I smirk. “How many did you bring?”

“Take them all. Like I said, I don't have any female friends. It feels weirdly liberating to share them with you. And let’s be honest with each other, Iris. If you travel in what you’re wearing now, you’ll turn heads––for the wrong reasons. I’m guessing Sal dressed you?” Her girly laugh stirs a smile even though I shudder on the inside. There’s no need to correct her. It’s Dante’s tee covered in Laoch’s blood and my sweat clinging to the fibers after he made love to me for the last time.

I rummage through the collection, settling on a sage green dress with a jumble of creamy buds. “I love this one. Let me try it on.”

“There’s a razor in there too. Unless you truly are blessed?” She winks. “Take your time. I’ll nurse Laoch and pretend he's my patient.” She kicks up her feet and tickles the downy fluff at his ear. I take a few steps towards the corridor behind the desk. “You should know he’s never allowed anyone in his treehouse. Not even me,” she adds, halting me. “He must really trust you, Iris. That’s kind of special… and really sad, if you ask me.”

My heart bucks. I unintentionally choke the clean fabric draping my hand. “Sad?” I turn to face her, swallowing the hard lump forming in my throat.

“Yeah.” She nods, running a hand through her hair. “I’ve known him for years, and the man has never put his full trust in anyone. Until you. Jackson hasn’t seen the inside of his place and they’re close friends. I wish the guy would allow himself to be happy. That he could let go of all that anger. I guess love doesn't conquer after all.” The hairs on my scalp prick. Her pretty face shadows.

“We aren’t in love.” I exhale, shaking my head.

She ignores my answer. “I wish we had met sooner. I think we could have been good friends.”

“Yeah,” I reply with a vague tone to match the numbness creeping inside my heart.

When she’s out of sight, I go through the motions and enter the washroom. This time the lighting has changed. Sunlight dapples the walls. Shadows darken the corners. Taking a deep breath, I remove the masculine styled shorts and toss them in the trash can. His soft T-shirt catches my hair, refusing to say goodbye. It’s cathartic to strip off the last piece of him, even though his seed is buried deep within me.

The feminine wrap-around dress is light and airy compared to the heavy cotton pants I’ve worn for weeks. A billowing hem ends mid-thigh. I pull the ties snugly at the waistline and showcase my hips. Without a reflection to assess my new look, I simply sigh at the transformation.

Hot water lathers up soap. I skim the razor over a light skiff of fair hairs along my shins. It’s odd how such a girly act makes me feel more like myself. It doesn’t take long to shed the layers of entrapment. I’m polished and primped on the outside and cloaked in a cloud of confusion within. I close my eyes and visualize jagged cliffs and choppy oceans. Salty sea air and bright green blades of grass.

Home.

I sway a little at the recollection and press a palm to my solar plexus. My breathing becomes purposeful. Emmie’s innocent eyes and toothy grin appear in my mind. I plug into the strength of our reunion and draw back my shoulders. I’m ready to hug my little sister.

Salvador runs the Oasis like clockwork as Dante’s respected second in command.

Jackson runs the medical facility and tends to the patients that Dante welcomes.

Even Carina has a place in his life.

Me—I’m merely a blip in his timeline.

Something he’s happy to forget.

I have no place here.

Slipping into the utility boots suited for navigating rough terrain, I shut the door on my flashbacks and rejoin Carina. She’s whispering in Portuguese to Laoch with a child-like voice.

When she hears my footsteps, her lashes flick up. “Wow. You're gorgeous, Iris. If he saw you now…” She shakes her head. I squint as the low setting sun blasts through a gap in the trees beyond the windows. “I wish you could stay longer. Why do you have to go so soon?”

“I’ve outstayed my welcome.” My shoulders bounce. “Anyway, my purpose in life is to study ecosystems and endangered species. I can’t do that without the appropriate equipment.”

I’ve put living on hold these past few weeks. Meeting Dante threw me a curveball. “I studied night and day, sacrificed my teenage years and a relationship with my ex-fiancé.” Now that I think about it. We weren’t matched. Not one bit. He enjoyed movies in a theatre where I loved sunsets overlooking the ocean. He burnt off energy in an indoor gym, and I preferred hiking through woodlands.

Carina tips forward with Laoch nestled close to her chest. “Dante is very secretive.” She stands. “Except for one thing—he tries to disguise his big heart. But you and I both know it’s hidden in that divine body of his. And now I’m worried I’ll never see his kindness again. Something didn’t feel right when we spoke earlier. He was cold—completely shut off.”

“From what I gather, he has important business to take care of. And I’m ready to travel back to Scotland. He has his priorities, and I have mine.” I don’t explain how my family has mentally buried and mourned me already.

“Carina.” Jackson strolls into the reception area wearing a pristine white lab coat. He slides a hand into his pocket. “What brings you back so soon, sweetheart?”

“El Fantasma asked me to bring Iris clothes for her journey tomorrow.” I take back Laoch and hold him like precious cargo.

Jackson gives me the once over and nods. “Very good.”

I turn slowly, feeling sorely out of place as they discuss the latest patient's operation.

“Can I take out the stitches?” she asks. “I need all the practice I can get.” I take two more steps to the exit. “Iris!” Carina calls out. “It was so nice to meet you. I hope our paths will cross in the future.”

“I hope so too,” I say over my shoulder, smiling at the two strangers.

The late afternoon sun peeks into the shade of waving fronds. I inhale a delicate floral perfume of brightly colored orchids spanning the dappled walkway. Stuffy warm air hazes with animal musk and rotten vegetation when I reach the opening to the jungle. The very place Dante offered me freedom the night I asked to leave. Where I bolted into the wilderness, naked and scared. Had I known his treehouse was down this worn track, I would have kept running.

Years of heavy boots have carved out a natural path. It twists and winds through slippery leaves and rough vines, leading to the rope bridges beneath the camouflaged overhead structure. The entrance to his private treetop paradise.

My arms are tired from carrying the sleeping cub, and my shoulders burn. I traverse the swinging walkways, each one linking from tree to tree until I’m miles above the earth and facing Dante’s desolate hideaway. There’s an eeriness. A ghostly whisper of loneliness kissing the breeze.

I’ve become an intruder––an uninvited guest invading his personal space. The scent of him lingers like a ghost. He’ll never know I took refuge in his bed in the absence of his arms or comprehend how I find peace and safety in this hidden location, miles from my home.

When I cross over the threshold, I set Laoch on an armchair facing the greenery and shake out my tingly arms. I take my time to wander, ambling toward the unmade bed. He has men at hand to act on his every whim. To clean and tidy, mend and update, yet this place is unseen by anyone other than me.

With a tug, I untie the knot above my belly button and let the dress drop to the floor. It flops to my feet, and I bend over, picking it up for tomorrow's journey. A deflated sigh puffs out my cheeks. I perch on the end of the mattress and loosen the laces before kicking off my boots.

Padding to the twin doors next to the bed frame, I expect to find a wardrobe. Instead, I’m met with a cubed room clad in floor to ceiling timber. An overhead skylight welcomes bold sunbeams that stream in from above. A wooden countertop fits snugly between two walls to create a uniquely shaped desk. On top, four computer screens form a grid and below a high back office chair sits empty like a throne.

Crumpled fabric sits in a heap beside the keyboard. If I’m not mistaken, the satin garment is like the night dresses I wore in the cabin. To the right, a dog-eared burgundy passport looks all too familiar. On closer inspection, there’s a water stained interior and laminated photograph of a girl called Iris Kitson.

The old me with an innocent youthful face.

Unaware.

Ambitious.

And now a ghost.

In the distance a creature screams, either in warning or fighting for its life. The ghastly echo makes my blood pump faster. Holding both items to my chest, I wonder what he’s doing now––if death stains his hands and if his soul has blackened with cruel deeds.