Chapter Two

All the unusual

The tray, egg, toast, juice. All laid painting the floor in streaks.

Her palms shrivelled like she caught a sudden cold. Yet, all Zaya's brain was processing was that voice.

"I didn't mean to startle you"

The man said, stepping closer.

Kyle roared "will you get out of there and clean that mess!"

Zaya jerked back to consciousness. Her stomach turned.

The man's gaze shifted sharply to Kyle. Just a gaze. He didn't utter one word.

She couldn't find a meaning. But there was something in that voice.

Something unplaceable.

Zaya hurried out of the scene. She could still hear the man's voice—and Kyle's.

"Careless little thing." Kyle said in dismissal.

Their voices faded into distance.

A few days after.

A man visited.

Zaya peeked through the slatted blinds. Her attention was drawn to the man who stepped out of a black car. Engine hummed to a halt.

Mid-fifties.

Impeccable suit.

Gold-rimmed glasses.

Surrounded by guards who looked like they've not spoken all their lives.

Kyle met him at the door. They exchanged a handshake that looked rehearsed.

He was called FATHER.

But he's not Kyle's father.

And Sussan didn't look at him like they have a relationship of any sort.

That was strange for a live-in house keeper of years before Zaya showed up.

Zaya crouched behind her curtains.

Holding her breath and absorbing everything.

She had a way of noticing all that went around the house.

She had to. It's survival.

Kyle, Damien Kameron and the man went to the roof top.

They stayed there for just approximately twenty minutes.

Zaya had the unsettlement she couldn't understand.

Another day.

At night.

The air was thick. Zaya couldn’t sleep. Her haunting dreams —the name Damien clawed into her inside.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps. Late. Secretive.

She peeked again. The same man— FATHER.

They were headed to Kyle's suite this time.

Low tones.

With no body guards.

Zaya slipped into her robe. The thoughts of snooping swept in.

She tiptoed through the hallway.

Susan's door was ajar.

Not good.

The mini passage.

She tiptoed back and used the mini entrance to access the corridor leading to Kyle's suite.

Finally she got there.

Palms sweaty.

She could barely hear a word.

Just when she was about to give up after fruitless trials she heard her name.

Shock.

She pressed her ears to the door. Then she heard it—

"I'll break her before she breaks me."

She gasped.

Amidst the shock and anxiousness to hear more, she felt a yank on her hair.

Sussan.

She had been quietly following her.

She pulled her by the hair but she couldn't let out even the tiniest groan.

It was better she's arrested by Sussan than heard by Kyle.

Sussan took Zaya to the passage and freed her hair with a push, "Why are you snooping around?"

"Shhhh..."

Zaya tried signaling her to keep her voice down.

"Please— I just—I heard my name and—”

"From the moment you were brought into this house like a vegetable I knew you were going to be trouble" Sussan said, indifferently.

Zaya froze. "What? Vegetable? "

Sussan glared. She turned to leave.

Zaya held her back, pleading, almost in tears.

"You're a woman Sussan. Help me"

Sussan turned around. "I should help you." She said— faint at first, like a whisper, then stronger. Harsher "I Sussan, should help you? Who are you?”

Zaya fell to her knees.

"That's the point I need help. I don't know who I am." Zaya said, voice amidst tears, trembling.

Sussan blinked like she's just converted.

"Stand up."

Susan narrowed her eyes. "You want to talk?"

Zaya nodded in affirmation.

"Let's go to the poolside."

Zaya followed Sussan slowly with her heart beating like a hum of jazz beneath her breath.

Sussan pushed a chair.

"Sit."

Zaya dragged the chair closer to Sussan. She darted her eyes as though she's not convinced they're alone.

"First of all, who is that man, Damien?"

A thick silence followed.

Then it was broken by the sound if laughter.

Low. Then louder.

Zaya blinked fast. Her eyes filing in fear. Her breath started to hitch.

Then Sussan leaned in.

"You mean this was the very thing you wanted to talk?”

"Please, don't be offended." Zaya whispered. It was just a starter.

"Well then speak!" Sussan said impatiently.

Zaya began in a stutter.

"I — I think, I mean—I do have scary dreams. They scare me, but they're unclear. I hardly know anything happening in it or anyone in it. I just know they are terrific ones. More like flashes of my life. I — can't really tell. "

Sussan gave her a blank stare "is that it?”

"No. Actually, the man, Damien, the name is very familiar. His voice is even more connecting. Remember how I froze on his arrival? I couldn't make sense of him until I had my usual nightmares again tonight. "

"So you want me to ....?" Sussan asked in feign confusion.

Zaya told her she wanted to know more about how she got there.

How she got to Kyle's house. "I know we don't exactly get along. But I'm helpless Sussan."

Sussan stared at her as though she was studying her pain, or savoring it.

There was no rush in her words.

"I need you to make sure this doesn't repeat itself. But I'll help you, regardless. “Sussan paused and looked around. Then continued.

"For a start, don't eat anything you don't cook with your hands at night. That's all I can help you with. I have no business in how or why you were brought here. "

Sussan stood up and walked away, hissing.

Zaya shivering under the moonlight.

The night ended in deeper confusion.

Days Later.

Nothing changed. Same old humiliation routine. Slaps. Silence. Orders.

Except for something.

The night. Rain tapped the windows.

Zaya was laying, curled under the sheets when Kyle stormed in.

Smiling.

Not pleasant.

He walked towards her slowly. Almost like a dance. As if it was a routine. Or it was mutual.

Zaya shriveled from fear. He reached for her robes.

Then he paused.

Like he just saw something unusual.

He stood up immediately. He wore confusion like a perfume.

Then came THE question. Calculated. Not laced with care. Not curiosity.

"Have you eaten?"

Zaya blinked.

His eyes furrowed.