idn't wake her. She

m blanket, Emily stared out the tall window. The sky had turned from black to pale grey, and the sun-if it was ou

came exact

two-three.

didn't

r opene

stiff white apron. Her features were clean and symmetrical, t

s. Bianchi," she

raighter. "That

Mr. Bianchi expects you

insolence. But no

e didn't ask for a nam

nce and stepped b

ld find in the closet: a grey turtleneck dress that fell to he

knot. She applied no makeup. Her skin looked pale in the mir

the house

led across the tile floor. Art hung on the walls-contempor

s alread

throat, sleeves rolled once. A watch glinted at

" he

e

ther placed a plate in front of her. Eggs

ally look

pt in th

't a qu

f coffee. "The b

omething lik

the cameras

idn't

edule this afternoon. Breakfast is at eight. Dinner at sev

I do a

house that do not open for you. Not because

he met his

stand,"

're not here to be understood

d like a stone

od. It tasted good, wh

he maid?"

a," he

esn't l

esn't h

was

e. He didn't touch her. H

st enough to say, "Try not to loo

he wa

The coffee had gone cold. Her

reapp

me," s

y of polished wood and lemon oil. Rooms passed by in

d outside a

Bianchi had it prepared. You may read, write, o

y no

didn'

et comfortable,"

an to," Emi

eyes

turned and

pened t

led. A single window. A desk, a chair,

inside and s

exha

re

every second in this pla

e only one we

ake sure hers nev