He has his back to the door, so he doesn’t see me. I take two indecisive steps toward him. He suddenly swings around to face me. His white shirt is unbuttoned. It’s sweaty, and he has something in his hand. He’s holding a glass of wine.

“Jack?”

I step closer, trying to see better. He’s muttering to himself under his breath.

“All I do is work, work, work. Every day. She’s obsessed. For what? I don’t even go outside. But I have no other options.”

He looks aghast, panicked, ashamed.

“I started working here, thinking it would be temporary. But it’s not. I can’t leave!”

He sees me. He looks right at me.

“I’m a coward,” he says. “We’re all cowards. We’re all scared of the same thing.”

“What are we scared of?” I ask.

He wipes at his face. He’s crying. I shouldn’t see this. I shouldn’t be in here.

Jack downs the rest of the glass. And then he laughs. It’s more a snicker, but it’s a strange sound, like pain. An injured animal. His eyes are dark. His face is unreadable. I try, but I can’t speak. I can’t make a sound.

What are we sacred of? I try to say again, but this time I can’t get it out. I stomp my foot, hoping it will reverberate, but it doesn’t.

I turn and walk out as fast as I can.

Outside the kitchen, through the dining room, I walk back along the hallway. This is not the comfortable, cozy place I thought it was. I was wrong about that, fooled. With each step, each pulse, I can feel my heart beating faster, harder. I keep walking, trying to steady myself. I don’t want them to see my unease. I want to hide it. I look at the walls around me, the ceiling and floor. They don’t look the same as when I was just here with Ruth. The walls have changed. So have I.

I tap my knuckle against the wall, and thankfully, it makes the familiar sound of bone on wood. I can hear my own steps again as I walk. I get back to my room, enter, and close the door. I stand in the dark, with my back against the door, looking at my big, comfortable bed. It’s calling to me.

I feel my heart rate lower, my breath slow.

I lie down on the bed, get under the covers, and close my eyes.

My mind is racing. I’m too anxious to go to sleep. So much has happened. And all… tonight? First, dinner, then the talk with Ruth. Seeing Jack in that desperate state. Him seeing me. The look on his face. Is Hilbert asleep in his room?

Ruth said something about Shelley being livid if she found us in the spa. Jack said she’s obsessed. With what?

Where is Shelley? Where does she go at night?

There’s a dull ache in my temples. I’m sweating. I feel hot in one moment, cold the next. I sit. I stand. I pace around my room. What was Jack doing in there?