Mrs. Jenkins looked back at me. When I met her eyes she quickly faced forward again. “There’re no kids here today,” I observed as we came to a halt at the private elevator that led to the hallway outside Mr. Earnshaw’s office.
Mrs. Jenkins froze. She slowly turned to face me. “Wh-what do you mean?”
I studied her. Her cheeks flushed as the blood beneath her skin rushed to fill her bloated face. I wondered what that blood smelled like. Wondered how quickly it would spurt from her vein if I dragged a knife over her throat. “This hallway.” I paused, my attention now on the throbbing pulse in her neck . . . Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock it sang out, drawing me in. It was getting faster and faster, like it would burst free from her neck at any moment. “I’ve seen kids walking these hallways at night, brought to the front door in a blacked-out van in the dead of night.”
She swallowed.
“I watched them being brought into this home by you and Dolly’s uncles, and then led up to this floor. To this back route to Mr. Earnshaw’s office.”
Mrs. Jenkins’s mouth dropped open as she tried to speak, but just as she did, the elevator pinged and the door slid open. We stepped inside, and as the door shut, I said, “Both boys and girls. About my age, I would say.”
Mrs. Jenkins’s back bunched. She shook her head. “Really, Heathan, you have such strange delusions. You’ve seen no such thing.” She laughed nervously, the sound grating on my bones. “Children coming into this house in the middle of the night? Whatever would that be for?”
She was lying.
I didn’t know why.
I’d seen them.
I knew it.
So did she.
The door opened, and I followed her toward the office. Mrs. Jenkins knocked, then she held the door open for me as I stepped inside. She shut the door behind me and left me alone.
I cast my gaze around the room. Mr. Earnshaw was sitting behind his desk, and Dolly’s uncles were sitting before the fire. They were always here. I assumed some of them lived in this house—it was big enough—and I rarely saw them leave the estate. There were six uncles, and as I stood there, they all stared at me.
“Heathan!” Mr. Earnshaw got to his feet. He was dressed as he always was, in a dark pinstriped suit. His dark hair was slicked back, and he held a cigar in his hand.
He stopped before me and placed his hand on my shoulder. I froze. He wasn’t Dolly. No one else was allowed to touch me. Just as I was about to rip his hand away, he pulled it back and sat on the edge of the desk. “How’re you doing, son?” He shook his head. “Such a tragedy, what happened to your father. A freak accident. I’m so sorry. Life can be so unfair.”
I didn’t reply. Instead I glanced at Dolly’s “uncles”—I knew they weren’t really her uncles, just her papa’s business partners, who she’d known all her life.
“How’re you feeling about living here now? In this house, with us?” My attention went back to Mr. Earnshaw.
“Fine.”
Mr. Earnshaw smiled, then he reached out and ran his finger down my cheek. Ice trickled down my spine at his touch. I didn’t want him fucking touching me. Mr. Earnshaw dropped his hand and moved to the small bar at the back of the room. “We have your room all prepared. It will be on this floor, not far from my office—”
“I wanna be next to Dolly.”
Mr. Earnshaw turned and made his way back to me, a drink of liquor in his hand. I frowned. “You’ve had a long day. You deserve it, son. Whiskey always makes things better.” He pushed the drink into my hand.
“I wanna be near Dolly. I want the room next to hers.”
“Now, son.” He paused. “I see how y’all are with each other. It wouldn’t be . . . appropriate to put you next to one another.” He smiled, and I wanted to rip out every one of his lily-white teeth. “Ellis is still only nine years old. She turns ten very soon.” The smile he gave made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “She’ll be older before long, more of a young lady than a child and able to do . . . more with herself and others. You understand what I mean, yes? You’re already eleven, almost twelve. You’re already a young man, and as such, I want to keep you nearer me. To safeguard you.”
I felt my eyebrows pull down, but just as I was about to argue, Mr. Earnshaw put his arm around me. “Come, have a drink with us.” He led me to the circle of seats, and I sat in the spare one beside him. I met each of the uncles’ eyes. They all were watching me.