Текст книги "Truth "
Автор книги: Aleatha Romig
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Текущая страница: 29 (всего у книги 42 страниц)
Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.
—Vaclav Havel
Chapter 41
Courtney eagerly relayed the conversation. She couldn’t wait to tell Claire everything Tony said. His excuse for visiting was to personally discuss the press release. Courtney promised she and Brent did their best to appear astonished and shocked by his change in attitude.
Brent reminded Tony about his threatened civil suit. Courtney even cried remembering her visit to the jail and inability to help. She said Tony claimed his outlook changed after seeing and speaking with Claire in person. He claimed his earlier anger was a form of self-preservation. He didn’t want to admit having feelings for the woman he’d been led to believe attempted to kill him. He told his friends he wasn’t sure where this reconnection was headed, but he hoped for full reunification.
Then according to Courtney, he apologized for his previous behavior and announced he wanted to bring Claire to Caleb’s wedding. Courtney said she almost lost it. She’d wanted to get Claire to the wedding for so long. Now with the possibility before her, she told Tony it wasn’t up to him, it was up to Julia and Caleb. Courtney didn’t want her son’s wedding to be a media circus, like the gala.
Graciously, Tony offered assistance with security and promised discreet behavior. They called Caleb and Julia. Courtney said Julia always liked Claire and was respectfully supportive of Tony’s choice of guest.
Claire listened in total disbelief. The wedding was in less than a week. She wasn’t supposed to see Tony again for two weeks. Nonetheless, she truly wanted to attend the wedding. As they spoke Claire thought about the trip she took with Courtney to Texas. For some reason she remembered her period was right before that trip. At the time she was relieved it occurred before frolicking in the sun and surf.
At that second, while Courtney rambled on enthusiastically about the wedding... Claire realized she hadn’t had her menstrual cycle since.
When Courtney paused, Claire asked, “How long ago did we go to Texas?”
“I’m not sure. Things have been so busy. I just know I can’t wait to see you again.” Perhaps hearing Claire’s recent change in tone, Courtney added, “But, you do what you feel is right. If you don’t want to be here with him, don’t do it. We can get together again after the wedding.”
Claire’s mind tried to process – they went to Texas in the middle of April. And now it’s almost June. She and Harry first got together in San Diego. When was that? How effective are condoms? How soon does morning sickness start? Those questions and more bombarded her mind as she tried to maintain her conversation, “I want to see you too.” Claire managed weakly, “It’ll be hard to act like we haven’t been in contact.”
“Well, don’t worry about that. Just decide what you’re going to do.”
Before Claire could answer her iPhone rang. It was the third call from Tony. “I need to go; he’s calling again. I can’t avoid his calls all day.”
“Love you, Honey. Tell me what you decide, or maybe Tony should. That way I’ll react honestly.”
“Got to go, bye.” Claire disconnected her work phone and answered the iPhone.
Tony’s call added to Claire’s already fried emotions. Besides working things out with Harry and Amber, she’d just learned Tony was going to ask her to the Simmons’ wedding in five days, and she’d realized at the very least, her period was three weeks late. Needless to say, she didn’t need to feign anxiety; it was real. “Tony, this is the third time you’ve called this morning. We aren’t making any public appearances for two weeks. Please give me some space.”
“Hello, Claire, so nice to hear your pleasant tone.”
“I’ve got a lot going on. What do you want?”
“Let me say, I would call less frequently if you would answer your phone.” She didn’t respond. He continued, “I made plans for us, for this coming weekend.”
Despite the upheaval in her life, she attempted to conceal the smile from her voice, not wanting the emerging expression to reveal her eagerness to attend the wedding. The mixture of emotions caused her voice to crack; hopefully it came across as irritation, “I agreed to go to Chicago, in two weeks. I’m not going anywhere with you next weekend.”
“I believe I might be able to persuade you otherwise.”
“Is that a threat? What are you going to do this time, arrange a walk-out of SiJo’s employees?”
“No, Claire. No threats – I believe you’ll want to attend this function.”
Exasperation evident, she replied, “Why? What function would I possibly want to attend with you?”
“Caleb and Julia’s wedding.”
Claire gasped. It was unbelievable. Even after Courtney’s call, Claire never truly believed she’d have this opportunity. “But, but... all of your friends think I tried to kill you.”
“The news release says differently.”
“That doesn’t mean they’ve changed their opinion of me. They probably don’t want me there.” As they continued to speak, Tony convinced Claire her presence was welcomed. She agreed to fly commercial to Iowa City, arriving Thursday afternoon. He wanted the chance for her to meet with his friends before the wedding, which was Saturday.
Claire’s agreement contained a few stipulations: She wanted a pre-purchased return ticket for Sunday. Tony agreed.
The next confrontation came when discussing accommodations. Tony wanted her to stay at the estate. Claire’s initial response was no. Reinforcing her stance, she exclaimed, “This idea is undebatable.”
Then Claire thought about Catherine. “The news release said you let some longtime members of your staff go. I know you still have Eric. Is Catherine still at the estate?”
“She is. And she’s hoping you will stay here.”
Claire exhaled, “My room will need a lock.”
“That isn’t a problem.”
His answer made her bristle. “It needs to be a lock that operates from the inside.” She clarified, “Also I will keep my phone at all times and have access to your Wi-Fi.”
He chuckled, “You drive a hard bargain. I told you before you should go into business. You are a master negotiator.”
Claire remembered Harry’s words: When it comes to Mr. Rawlings, your negotiating skills are stellar! My guess is that you’ll leave your little meeting and move back to Iowa. She wasn’t moving. This was just a visit.
As soon as she hung up with Tony, Claire went to the store and bought a home pregnancy kit. Sitting at her dressing table and waiting for the results, the memories of her phone calls filtrated her thoughts. She wanted to go to Caleb’s wedding. However, the results of this test could make everything different.
Claire stared at the white plastic stick and waited for the timer to sound on her iPhone. Did she really need this little piece of plastic to tell her what she already knew? She was experiencing all the symptoms: nausea – more intense in the morning, hunger – all the time and tiredness – even after napping, and thirst – unquenchable at times. Looking at the two small openings within the stick, Claire saw lines begin to form. The directions said: results in three minutes. It had been less than one, and the vertical blue line in the control window appeared before her eyes, indicating the test was working.
Her head pounded with questions. What symbol would appear in the other window? Would she see a lone horizontal stripe meaning not pregnant, or a horizontal and a vertical stripe indicating pregnant. Essentially the directions said a plus sign would form in the case of pregnancy. Plus was often synonymous for positive; thinking about that possibility, positive was not the word Claire believed she’d use to describe her current mental state.
She closed her eyes and debated her distress. Was it from the nausea twisting her stomach or the fear of the unknown quickening her heart rate? The buzz of the timer triggered her iPhone to vibrate across the dressing table. Claire’s eyes opened. Before her on the table was her answer – the indicator window revealed a blue plus.
The bottom fell out of Claire’s world. She eased herself from the stool and sank to the bathroom floor. The ceramic tile cooled her legs, while the solid wall supported her head. Mentally she assessed the timeline: mid-early – April period, two weeks later – dream, three weeks later – San Diego and now – here she was, seven weeks since her last menstruation. How had she not thought of this before?
Reaching for her phone, she scrolled her contacts for Amber’s doctor, one of the most sought after gynecologists in the Silicon Valley. After San Diego, Claire called and made an appointment, hoping to get a prescription for birth control pills. The usual waiting period for new patients was up to six months. Amber’s referral shortened the wait considerably. Claire’s appointment was in another three weeks. However, now things were different, waiting wasn’t an option. Then she realized the day, Sunday, she would have to wait another day to call.
Tears moistened her cheeks as she placed her head on her knees and gave in to the overwhelming emotion. Before she could make any decisions, or talk to anyone, Claire needed answers. First and foremost, how pregnant was she – seven weeks or four weeks?
Finally, she made her way back into her bedroom and into the overpowering aroma of roses; thankfully the flowery aroma was pleasurable – the three bouquets saturated every molecule of the room. She’d meant to ask Tony if he’d sent the other two bouquets. However, with the talk of the wedding and thoughts of the pregnancy, she forgot.
Claire went to her laptop and Googled answers. How effective are condoms? The search engine spun – answers appeared: if used correctly, condoms are 98% effective. With common usage the failure rate grows to between 14 and 15%.
What do they mean if used correctly? How many ways are there to use a condom?
Monday morning Claire called the doctor’s office and was relieved to learn of a Wednesday afternoon opening. If it weren’t for her dream, Claire would consider asking Harry to join her. However, despite their reconciliation Sunday morning, there was a change in their relationship. It was her news of the wedding that pushed his limits. Although it wasn’t declared, instinctively, Claire knew it. The stolen glances and casual touches were gone.
Everything probably happened too fast. Yet, thinking about the possibility they’d used the condoms commonly and not correctly, Claire was thankful they were still comfortable and friendly with one another. Harry appreciated Claire’s bond with Courtney and her desire to attend the ceremony. He couldn’t comprehend the necessity of being in Iowa Thursday through Sunday, and most importantly, why she agreed to stay at Mr. Rawlings’ estate. Claire told him and Amber the truth. She was staying at the estate for one reason – to see Catherine.
In many ways, the woman had become Claire’s mother. She was the steady force during a very difficult time in Claire’s life. Catherine’s support and encouragement sustained her. Looking back, there were times Claire wondered if she would’ve survived without Catherine’s care. Amber and Harry still had their mother; they couldn’t understand.
When Wednesday arrived, Claire tried with all of her might to retain the wealth of information. In the beginning, the doctor’s staff asked a lot of questions, and even though she’d done a home pregnancy test, they instructed her to urinate in a cup, to confirm the pregnancy.
The eerie stillness of the examination room pulled at Claire’s already stretched nerves. She longed for a hand to hold or a voice for comfort. Instead, she waited alone on her roller coaster of emotion for the doctor to confirm the blue plus. Since that moment, three days ago – every minute, every second, she thought about the pregnancy. While shopping for a dress for Caleb’s wedding, she stood motionless for minutes upon minutes looking at her flat stomach in the dressing room mirror and wondered: How long until it begins to grow?
The last two nights, during the night, she woke to use the bathroom. Last night she heard her own voice saying, “Hey Little One, I know you don’t mean anything by this, but just remember I like my sleep. Maybe we can work on some compromises.” (Always the master negotiator.) It wasn’t until the words were out of her mouth that she contemplated her discussion. Was she actually talking to the cause of her nausea and increased urination?
As she sat alone in the silence of the examination room, Claire realized she wanted their test to confirm the one she took at Amber’s condo. She wouldn’t have believed it three days ago, but if they came in the room and told her that she wasn’t pregnant, Claire would be devastated.
That realization strengthened her. She wanted this baby. Thinking about the paternity, she recognized it didn’t matter. It did. But it wouldn’t affect her feelings for this child. He or she was hers. The rest would work itself out, or it wouldn’t. Keeping this baby safe and healthy was now her number one concern.
Dr. Sizemore entered the small room with her laptop in her hand. “Ms. Nichols, congratulations! You are definitely pregnant.”
Claire’s smile radiated to her emerald eyes. It wasn’t planned. Potentially she was in the middle of a dangerous mine field. Her entire world could explode with one single misstep. None of it mattered. Her world and the treacherous terrain she navigated were suddenly and forever inconsequential. In her figurative game of chess, attacking her opponent was no longer as important as reinforcing and protecting her pieces, especially her one new piece. Claire would forever have someone else to consider.
After some discussion, Dr. Sizemore directed an ultrasound wand and spoke reassuringly, “The external ultrasound works well later in pregnancy. This early we need to use what is called trans-vaginal.”
Claire forgot the uncomfortable sensation as she watched the screen before her go in and out of focus. When the doctor finally stilled the picture, all Claire could see was white static, with a dark oval and something white, shaped like a peanut. Dr. Sizemore explained, “This is your baby.”
A grid appeared, superimposed on the peanut as Dr. Sizemore took measurements.
“Is everything all right?” Claire asked.
“Yes, everything looks perfect. Do you see this small movement?” A white arrow appeared on the screen and pointed to a dark pulsating spot within the peanut. The sound of swishing filled the small room.
Claire nodded.
“That’s your baby’s heart beating.” The sound reminded Claire of the calming swoosh of waves on the shore of her lake in Iowa. Dr. Sizemore continued, “The heartbeat isn’t detectable until six weeks Estimated Gestational Age. According to my measurements, Ms. Nichols, you are seven weeks pregnant, give or take a day.”
Claire laid her head on the soft pillow of the exam table. Upon the ceiling there was a picture of three adorable babies, all smiling down at Claire. Her eyes filled with tears as she closed out the world and considered her feelings. If the baby were Harry’s it’d be so much easier. Or would it? Is easy what Claire desired? Tony claimed to still love her. Harry never said he loved her. But then again, could she trust Tony after all he’d done? She needed answers. She needed to know more about the man she’d once married, the man whose baby she now carried.
The doctor pushed a button and printed copies of the ultrasound screen. Instinctively Claire knew who she wanted to see these pictures. With a new determination, Claire realized she couldn’t wait to be in Iowa and talk with the woman who’d supported her and could hopefully answer her questions. Claire couldn’t wait to talk with Catherine.
There is sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They are messengers of overwhelming grief and of unspeakable love.
—Washington Irving
Chapter 42
The BMW stopped momentarily at the front entrance as the large iron gates opened. It had been seventeen months since Claire had been on Tony’s property. The last time she watched these gates open was that fateful day in January of 2012, the day she drove away. Her heart rate quickened as the car navigated the winding drive. Being early June, the lush vegetation allowed only the occasional ray of sunshine to break through the canopy of leaves, creating a strobe effect as they neared their destination. When the trees cleared and the vista opened, the house before her took Claire’s breath away. She remembered its grandeur. However, with time, memories fade. The stately reality flourished in its full glory. Had this mansion really been her home? The combination of brick, riverstone, and limestone stood a paragon of Tony’s affluence. Or perhaps, Claire wondered, was it a monument to Nathaniel Rawls, Tony’s grandfather? After all, it did resemble the picture of Tony’s childhood home.
Claire struggled to contain her increasing anxiety while Eric pulled the car onto the brickyard in front of the steps. He had met her at the airport and chauffeured her to the mansion. Although she was still unhappy with Eric’s physical persuasion last week in San Francisco, his presence was comforting. After all, he too was a steady presence in her past. Nonetheless, his words as he opened the rear door increased her growing fretfulness. Bowing slightly he said, “Welcome home, ma’am.”
Her expression revealed her surprise. “Eric, I am visiting.”
“Yes, Ms. Claire. I will make sure your bags are in your room as soon as possible.”
“Thank you.”
Veiled in the shadow of the house, her heels stalled upon the brickyard. Turning a circle, she took in the countryside. The bright blue sky and various shades of green created a palate of color contrasting the landscape of Palo Alto. She inhaled the warm clear air as she stalled, facing the towering front doors and insurmountable steps. Did she really want to willingly enter this house? Moments passed as she stood frozen in time. Though she willed her body to move forward, her feet remained steadfast. Rising emotions paralyzed her. She stood motionless when suddenly the massive door opened and her heart melted. Standing within the frame of the threshold was the woman Claire longed to see.
Catherine’s smile prompted tears to trickle from Claire’s green eyes. Claire wanted to go up the steps, but her feet refused to move. Lowering her head, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the sobs within her chest. Her shoulders shook with intense anguish.
Unexpectedly, a comforting embrace surrounded Claire. Her head settled onto Catherine’s shoulder, as Catherine’s arms encircled her petite frame. Stroking Claire’s hair, Catherine murmured, “Ms. Claire, it is all right. I’m here.”
At first Claire could only nod into Catherine’s blouse. Finally Claire reached into her purse, retrieved a tissue, and wiped her eyes and nose. “I’m sorry, Catherine. I’ve just missed you so much.”
The two women embraced. “Oh, Ms. Claire, I have missed you, too. Please come in the house and let us get you settled.”
Claire willingly followed. How many times had Claire confidently followed this woman despite lurking apprehension?
Claire paused as she stepped onto the marble entryway floor. The grand staircase wound upward toward the railed second floor. Her eyes continued to move skyward taking in the elaborate chandelier and the shimmering ceiling beyond. Inhaling deeply she peered around the foyer. Even though it had been almost a year and a half she knew every inch of this massive mansion. She took in the archway leading to the sitting room and the sunporch beyond. She saw the hall leading to Tony’s office and the French doors to the formal dining room.
Her body trembled as she mentally moved from room to room. Catherine reached for her hand, “Ms. Claire, may I get you something? Perhaps you’d like to rest after your trip?”
Finding her voice, Claire asked, “Is Mr. Rawlings here? Eric said he was still at work.”
“He still is, Miss. Eric is on his way to Iowa City to bring him home as soon as he is able.” She patted Claire’s hand. “He wanted to meet you at the airport; however, there were pressing matters. He should be here in another hour or so.”
Claire nodded. With increased concern she asked, “Where am I staying? What room?”
“Mr. Rawlings instructed to have all rooms ready. It is your choice.”
“My choice?”
“Yes. He said to tell you, all of the suites have locks that operate from the inside.”
Claire smiled, “Is my old suite available?”
“Oh yes, it is. And it is ready for you. It’s even been redecorated. Would you like to see?”
The nausea hit fast. Claire felt her face flush. “I think I need to sit down first. May we go to the porch?”
Catherine noticed the pallor overtaking Claire’s complexion and walked her through the sitting room. Together they stepped down into the open sunporch. Instantaneously, a breeze blew Claire’s hair and settled her nerves. Beyond the windows and screens she saw Tony’s lush backyard bursting with color. Besides the intense green of the lawn, reds, pinks, whites, and yellows shimmered from the flower beds, pots, and gardens in the distance. Instinctively, Claire turned toward the pool. The blueness of the water rivaled the clear Iowa sky as the fountains sprayed high into the air. The lounge chairs and umbrella tables sat ready for occupancy. At one time, it had been Claire’s private resort. She closed her eyes and settled onto the rattan loveseat.
“May I get you something, perhaps a drink or something to eat?” Catherine asked with obvious concern.
Claire looked at her watch. Although it said after two in the afternoon, Claire knew it was after four in Iowa. She had an airline lunch in flight, but it wasn’t much. “I know we are supposed to dine later, but I could really use something now, something light.”
Catherine smiled tenderly, “Of course. Would you like me to bring it to you here or in your suite?”
Tears threatened Claire’s resolve. She couldn’t think of it as her suite. She wasn’t even sure she could sleep there. But then again, could she sleep anywhere else? “I would like to stay here right now and enjoy this beautiful afternoon.”
Catherine quickly left to find Claire a snack.
When Catherine returned, she had a tray with a bowl of chicken salad, a sleeve of crackers, some grapes, and a tall glass of iced tea. Claire sighed and asked Catherine to join her as she ate. Catherine did. The food was perfect. It warmed Claire’s soul to be near this woman. Somehow, no matter the circumstance, Catherine always knew what was best.
While Claire ate, they chatted about nothing – very superficial. Once Claire’s food was gone and color returned to her cheeks, Claire breached the subject looming omnipresent. “Catherine, do you believe I tried to hurt Tony?”
Catherine took Claire’s hand and watched their entwined fingers for a longtime. The sounds of nature from the other side of the screens filled their ears until Catherine looked to Claire and said, “Ms. Claire, I have known Mr. Rawlings for a longtime. I was very concerned for his well-being.” She squeezed Claire’s soft hand. “I know there were times when you were not happy. I know there were times when being with him was difficult. I also know you are the best thing to ever happen to him, and in his own way he loves you more than he has ever loved anyone.” She paused, “No. I never believed you could hurt him, not like that.”
Claire allowed the tears to flow, not from sadness but from relief. “Thank you Catherine. I wouldn’t do that.”
“No, Miss, I know you wouldn’t. However, you have in you, the ability to hurt him deeper than any poison could. Your absence has been very difficult for him. If you chose to abandon him again, I do not know what will happen.”
Indignantly, Claire replied, “I did not abandon him. He left me at that jail in Iowa City.”
Catherine’s gray eyes pleaded with Claire in a way words would never articulate, “Ms. Claire, I wish I could help you understand the man beneath the facade. One doesn’t become who he is without cause. Your presence and absence has affected him beyond the same from anyone else.”
Claire stared and her hands trembled. Finally she managed to voice her new realization, “You sent it to me, didn’t you?”
“Ms. Claire, we should get you to your suite. Mr. Rawlings will be here soon and the two of you have dinner plans with the Millers, Bronsons, and Simmons’. I also believe Mr. Summer and Ms. Combs will be there.”
At this moment Claire didn’t care about her impending dinner plans. “Please tell me. Did you send the box of information to me in prison?”
Catherine stood. “Eric took your bags to your suite. Do you need me to escort you upstairs?”
Claire closed her eyes and lowered her face. Her emotions were too intense to contain. “I so hoped...” Her voice trailed away as she swallowed her words.
Catherine knelt before Claire. Her hand rested upon Claire’s knee; she spoke in a whisper, “Ms. Claire, I am pleased you are here. There are many things for us to discuss, but we must proceed with care. May I suggest you ready yourself for your evening and tomorrow while Mr. Rawlings is working we can walk, perhaps beyond the gardens?”
The cameras and recordings came to Claire’s mind. Her eyes opened wide. With the excitement of seeing Catherine, she’d forgotten about them. Claire wiped her eyes on her napkin, “Yes, I’d like that. I think I need to freshen up. Do you know how long it will be until Mr. Rawlings arrives?”
“Eric sent a text message. They are about to leave Iowa City. He should be here in thirty minutes. Do you need an escort?”
Claire stood and deeply inhaled the fresh air. “No, I’ll be fine.” She embraced Catherine, “Thank you. I really have missed you. You’re the closest person I’ve had to a mother since my mother passed away.”
Catherine’s expression surprised Claire. It was a mixture of love and shock.
Claire quickly added, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
With her expression mellowing, Catherine said, “No, Claire it didn’t. I never thought anyone would ever think of me that way.”
Internally smiling at being addressed by only her first name, Claire hugged the woman before her. “I do. I don’t think I would have survived without you. I feel so much better just being with you.”
Catherine’s gray eyes filled with moisture as she turned her gaze out into the yard. Never in Claire’s memory could she remember seeing Catherine cry, even after Claire’s accident. Catherine was always strong and steady. The crack in this woman’s armor made Claire uneasy; she lifted her purse and walked toward the grand staircase. Her suite was at the top of the steps in the southeast wing. She knew the way well.
*****
Tony gripped the telephone as he looked once again at the clock on the dashboard of the BMW: 5:22 PM. The voice on the other end of his conversation was understandably uneasy. Tony had listened to the murmuring as long as his nerves would allow. Finally Tony interrupted, “So she turned down the tour. Did she tell you why?”
“She said there are too many things happening right now. She doesn’t want to be gone from her husband for that long.”
“Then tell her, she can choose a shorter tour. I thought thirty months was excessive. You were the one who advised bigger and grander. Make is twelve, sixteen cities in twelve months. I want an answer tomorrow.”
“Mr. Rawlings, she’s gone. She went to visit her father in New Jersey.”
“She left town and you didn’t inform me?”
“She just left today.”
“Mr. George, you are on the verge of losing the best investment you’ve ever secured. I want her signed to a contract, yesterday.”
“Sir, do you want me to follow her to New Jersey?” He said New Jersey like it was purgatory.
“Is her husband with her?”
“I don’t know, sir. She didn’t mention him regarding her trip.”
“Get me a verbal answer by tomorrow.” Tony disconnected the call. He quickly dialed another number.
“Hello, Mr. Rawlings.”
“Danielle, I was just informed Sophia Burke is visiting New Jersey. Is Derek with her?”
“No, sir, Derek left yesterday for a ten day factory visit in Beijing.”
“And where are you?”
“Santa Clara”
“Why are you not with him in China? You are supposed to be his personal assistant. I am sure we could find someone who is better for your job.”
“Sir, Derek is a nice man. He’s not interested in cheating on his wife.”
Tony’s sneer lingered, as his eyes remained cool, “People get lonely in other countries. You will leave immediately. Keep me apprised of your success.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tony disconnected his call and placed his phone on the seat to his right. Looking up to the rearview mirror, Tony asked, “Eric, tell me again about Ms. Claire. How is she?”
“She was strong until she reached your home.”
“What happened?”
“She broke down, crying on the brickyard ...” Eric explained everything up until Catherine took Claire gingerly in to the house.
Tony listened. Not in seventeen months had he felt the anticipation of reaching his home as he did today. He couldn’t believe she was really back. Drumming his fingers silently on the leather seat, he watched the road pass before him. If he were driving, he would have this car doing one hundred and ten.
*****
Her shoes clicked along the marble second floor landing until the carpet of the southeast corridor enveloped her heels and muted her steps. Each door she passed along the corridor made Claire wonder if she’d chosen the right room. The door to her suite stood ajar. She tentatively stood at the threshold. It had been a long time since she’d spent thirteen days trapped within the confines of this suite. Yet, despite the happy memories associated with this room, that incarceration was what tumbled out her hidden compartment.
By entering, was she exposing her queen, or worse her king? Everyone knows if her king were captured, the game would be done.
Bravely she reached into her purse and looked at her iPhone. Yes, she had a signal. Her queen had protection. Most of her support was miles away. However, a bishop or a rook could move across the entire board in an undeterred motion.
