The Break-Up Retreat(66)
I can barely see the cut on her lip, anymore. But I remember her face from last night vividly.
The blood caught between her teeth. The threat, delivered in a low growl.
“Good morning, gang,” Clara greets us, sitting down next to Leyla. She doesn’t look directly at me.
Instead, she takes stock of the surprisingly empty table, with nothing on it but a couple of yogurts and four untoasted slices of bread stacked on a plate, and asks: “What happened to the breakfast?”
The doors to the kitchen opens up, and Anna comes walking out with a pot of tea.
“Hey, Clara. Isobel.” She puts the pot down in the middle of the table. I catch a whiff of lavender and raspberry, and my stomach turns.
Anna looks at me and asks:
“Are you feeling better today, honey? Did you sleep okay?”
It takes me a moment to remember what she’s talking about.
“Much better. The cramps are almost gone.”
Clara holds up a finger to get Anna’s attention.
“Sorry, but what happened to the breakfast? Is the kitchen out of those overnight oats? It’s been really good for balancing my hormones.”
“It’s the rain.” Anna takes a seat next to Katarina, shaking her head. Her hair is damp, I notice now, the icy blond somewhat muted.
“The kitchen staff doesn’t stay on location. They called this morning. Apparently, the road isn’t safe. Something about a flood warning. So we’re on our own in the kitchen today.” She grimaces. “We’ll do our best, but I’m afraid it won’t be up to the usual standard. Sorry.”
“A flood warning?” I repeat.
Anna nods, and, reaching out, she grabs one of the tired-looking pieces of bread and takes a big bite out of it.
“The head chef sounded really upset about it on the phone.” Her words turn muddled by the chewing. “I told him not to worry. We’ve got enough food out here to last us for weeks.”
Fuck.
Sandra’s car isn’t sturdy enough to drive through flooded streets. My rental might be, but the keys are somewhere in the main building.
Panic has started bubbling in my stomach, low and sharp, a tart taste filling my mouth. My head is spinning.
There is no way out of here.
Maybe there is no flood warning at all. Maybe Martina made it up to keep me here. Maybe I’ve been sitting in a rattrap, this whole time, thinking I’m a cat, all while the doors shut all around me and the glue started working its quiet, deadly magic.
No. I have to calm down. I can’t let myself get paranoid, not now. Fear will not serve me, only make me feel small and helpless; and if I stop believing I can get out, I will already be lost.
I can sneak into Martina’s office. I did it last night, and I can do it again. I’ll find the keys to the rental, and get Sandra, and we’ll get out of here. We might not even have to drive through the flood. We just have to get far away enough that we can call for help.
“I’ve never heard of a flood warning in this part of the country,” Leyla comments. “I’d have thought the elevation would make it unlikely,” she adds.
Anna shrugs.
“Climate change, I guess,” she says.
“Are we at risk?” Katarina’s voice is tinged with worry. “With the pond, and everything.”
“I don’t think so.” Anna smiles, teeth glinting white in the gray light. “The warning concerned the area down the road, not up here. You’re all perfectly safe.”
“Yeah, guys.” Clara raises her voice. “It’ll be really cozy. Like camp. We can stay up and tell ghost stories tonight.”
I catch her eyes as she says:
“As long as we all do as we’re told, I’m sure we’re going to be just fine.”
Chapter 36
As the others begin to walk over to the main building for the morning session of group therapy, their jackets and sweaters pulled up over their heads, I wait a couple of seconds to let them get a head start before turning instead to the staff quarters.
The clouds have only gotten thicker, heavier and darker, the rain drops heavy enough for the sound outside to be deafening. The pond looks like a ballet in the abstract, droplets dancing over the iron-gray surface.
I only need a few minutes. Wake Sandra up, borrow her phone, call for help. One call to Armin, one to the police. I’ll tell them someone is being held here against their will, that they need to send a car, or a helicopter, or even a goddamned horse.
That’ll be enough.
“Isobel?”
I stop, midstep, cursing my luck, cursing the weather. Cursing Himlafall.
Turning, I see Anna, standing there with a frown on her beautiful face, her light hair covered by the hood of a pretty pink rain jacket “Where are you going?”
“I was just going to go and get a dry sweater,” I hasten to say. “Don’t worry, I’ll be along in just a minute.”
Anna bites her lip.
“I’d really rather you stick with the others right now. With this weather, we don’t want any accidents.”
“I’m not going to have an accident. I’ll be careful, and it’s such a short walk.” Even as I’m speaking, the wind picks up, nearly knocking me over, as if nature itself is contradicting me.