The first thing I do is exactly what I said I was going to do—I go to the kitchen, where I drink two heaping glasses of water. Then I make myself a bologna sandwich. No, not abalone. Bologna. With lots of mayonnaise, and white bread. After I’ve got some food in my belly, I feel a lot better. I can finally think straight.
I pick up Andrew’s phone. He is still in the attic room, pacing back and forth. Like a caged animal. If I were to let him out, I can’t even imagine what he would do to me. The thought of it makes a cold sweat break out at the back of my neck. While I’m watching him, a text message pops up on his phone from “Mom.”
Are you going to serve Nina with divorce papers?
I scroll through some of the previous messages. Andrew has told his mother all about his falling-out with Nina. I’ve got to answer her, because if he doesn’t, she might come over here—and then I’m screwed. Nobody can suspect something has happened to Andrew.
Yes. Just speaking with my lawyer right now.
The reply from Andrew’s mother comes back almost instantly:
Good. I never liked her. And I always did the best I could with Cecelia, but Nina was extremely lax on discipline and the little girl became quite a brat.
I get a jab of sympathy in my chest for Nina and Cecelia. It’s bad enough that Andrew’s mother never liked Nina. But to speak that way of her own grandchild? And I wonder what Andrew’s mother had in mind for “discipline.” If it’s anything like Andy’s idea of punishment, I’m glad Nina never went through with it.
My hands are trembling as I type my reply:
Looks like you were right about Nina.
Now I have to deal with that asshole.
I shove his phone back in my pocket, then I climb the stairs to the second floor, then all the way up to the attic. When I get to the top floor, the footsteps in the attic room go silent. He must’ve heard me.
“Millie,” he says.
“I’m here,” I say stiffly.
He clears his throat. “You made your point about the room. I’m sorry about what I did.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I realize now I was wrong.”
“I see. So you’re sorry?”
He clears his throat. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
He is silent for a bit. “Say what?”
“Say you’re sorry that you did a terrible thing to me.”
I watch his expression on the screen. He doesn’t want to tell me he’s sorry because he’s not. All he’s sorry for is that he gave me the chance to get the better of him.
“I’m so sorry,” he finally says. “I was absolutely wrong. I did an awful thing to you, and I will never do it again.” He pauses. “Will you let me out now?”
“Yes. I will.”
“Thank you.”
“Just not yet.”
He inhales sharply. “Millie…”
“I’m going to let you out.” My calm voice belies the pounding in my chest. “But before I do, you have to be punished for what you did to me.”
“Don’t play this game,” he growls. “You don’t have the stomach for it.”
He wouldn’t talk to me that way if he knew I beat a man to death with a paperweight. He has no idea. But I’m betting that Nina knows. “I want you to lie down on the floor and put those three books on top of you.”
“Come on. This is ridiculous. “
“I’m not letting you out of this room until you do it.”
Andrew lifts his eyes to look into the camera. I always thought he had nice eyes, but there’s venom in them as he stares at me. Not at me, I remind myself. He’s looking at the camera. “Fine. I’ll humor you.”
He lies down on the floor. One by one, he picks up each book and stacks them on his abdomen, the same way I did only hours earlier. But he’s bigger and stronger than I am, and he only looks mildly uncomfortable with those books on top of him, even when all three are stacked on him.
“Happy?” he calls out.
“Lower,” I say.
“What?”
“Move the books lower.”
“I don’t know what you—”
I press my forehead against the door as I speak: “You know exactly what I mean.”
Even through the door, I can hear the sharp inhale of his breath. “Millie, I can’t—”
“If you want to get out of that room, you’re going to do it.”
I stare down at the screen of his phone, watching him. He pushes the books down his chest so they are squarely on top of his genitals. He didn’t look very uncomfortable before, but that has changed now. His face is frozen in a grimace.