I awoke in a small room. The space was much different than the last few times I had been there. Instead of the ground, I was on a cot with a soft blanket and a pillow. There were even a toilet and a sink.
Looking around for an escape route, I was surprised the walls weren’t made of dirt and rock. Instead, it looked like I was enclosed in a block of ice. The thick metal door opened, and I quickly laid back down, pretending to sleep.
“Wake up, Blanche,” Jameson said as he stroked my hair. Handing me a notepad, he added, “Write a note to your staff. Tell them you have gone to Brighid’s Landing for a well-deserved rest. Make it sound official.”
“I don’t care about the house,” I hissed, shoving it away.
“It will be easier when you return. Now, go on. Write the letter,” he insisted.
Hastily
