Chapter 7

The following morning, I woke up to find the bed empty. I had no idea what time Christopher had gotten up, but I suspected he'd left fairly early to return to his bedroom before Serena discovered that he had spent another night with me.

I lingered beneath the sheets for a few minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet, before getting up to start my day.

Fortunately, the day passed without any major incidents, largely because most guests were still recovering from the previous night's party. Watching them emerge with dark circles under their eyes, expressions full of regret, and a desperate need for coffee made me grateful that I'd woken up feeling fresh as a daisy, although I had the good sense not to brag about it.

I spent much of the morning playing backgammon with Jeff, Blair, and Tom, Blair's boyfriend. I discovered that all three were quite competitive, and that Jeff had the unpleasant habit of accusing anyone who beat him of cheating, which led to several ridiculous arguments and plenty of laughter.

Afterward, I started my second book, and when the sun became a little less intense, we headed down to the beach again. Someone suggested building a sandcastle, and although the guys insisted they were far too old for such a childish activity, it took only a few minutes for them to become involved with an enthusiasm none of them seemed willing to admit.

Jeff insisted that we needed higher walls, Tom became determined to build a moat that could be filled with seawater, and Christopher ended up arguing with both of them about the best way to reinforce one of the towers.

I simply watched them for a few moments, laughing helplessly at the seriousness with which they debated the architecture of a structure that would probably disappear with the next tide.

"I thought you guys were too old to play in the sand," I remarked when Christopher asked me to hand him a bucket.

"This isn't playing, Mia. We're solving a structural problem," he replied with absolute seriousness.

His explanation only made me laugh harder, and I eventually joined them, although I couldn't help remembering that little fort made of blankets and pillows where we had first begun sharing our nights so many years ago.

For the first time since our arrival, I managed to forget about the uncomfortable looks and genuinely enjoy everyone's company.

As evening approached, someone suggested going out for dinner at a nearby restaurant and then continuing the night at a club. Almost everyone welcomed the idea enthusiastically, but I had absolutely no intention of joining them, so I took advantage of a moment when Christopher was alone to approach him.

"Can I stay at the house?"

"Are you sure?" he asked, studying me carefully.

"Yes. Besides, I heard everyone wants to go to a club after dinner, and I have no business being there. I'll be fine."

Christopher seemed to consider my words before nodding.

"Do you want me to order something for you to eat?"

"Don't worry about it. I was thinking of making myself some pasta and watching a movie. Go have fun with your friends."

"I can have something delivered from the restaurant."

"Christopher, I know how to cook," I reminded him with a smile as I began gently pushing him toward the door. "I'm not going to starve to death just because I spend a few hours without supervision."

He burst out laughing, although before leaving, he adopted that serious expression that was becoming far too familiar.

"All right, but remember what I asked you. Keep your bedroom door locked."

"Yes, sir," I replied with exaggerated solemnity, making him shake his head.

When they finally left, I enjoyed a sense of peace I hadn't experienced since our arrival. I made myself some pasta, turned on the television, and chose one of those ridiculous movies that required very little concentration and were perfect for a carefree evening.

After dinner, I cleaned up the kitchen and returned to my bedroom, convinced that this would finally be a completely normal night.

However, a few hours later, my phone vibrated on the bed.

Christopher: I can't find my keys. Go upstairs to my parents' bedroom and lock the door. No one else has a key to that room.

I frowned as I reread the message, trying to understand what a missing set of keys could possibly have to do with me needing to lock myself inside the master bedroom.

Mia: Is everything okay?

His reply came almost immediately.

Christopher: Just do as I say, Mia. Please.

That only made me more uneasy.

Mr. and Mrs. Morgan's bedroom was off-limits to everyone, including me. The house was large enough to accommodate numerous guests without anyone needing to use that room, and although I was allowed to access certain areas of the property, it would never have occurred to me to enter his parents' bedroom on my own initiative.

The few times I had been inside were because one of them had asked me to come in. Marylee, for example, used to invite me to sit in front of her vanity so she could braid my hair when I was younger, chatting with me about my classes or the books I was reading.

But entering that bedroom without its owners being present was an entirely different matter.

I looked at Christopher's message again, and although I had plenty of questions, I decided to do as he asked. I left my bedroom and hurried up the stairs, doing my best to avoid running into anyone along the way.

The master bedroom door was unlocked, just as he had said. I stepped inside with some hesitation and, after locking the door, checked twice to make sure it was secure.

I sat down on one of the sofas near the window and picked up my phone, expecting some kind of explanation. However, Christopher didn't message me again.

I don't know how much time had passed when I heard footsteps in the hallway. At first, I didn't pay much attention to them, but then I distinctly heard someone trying to turn the door handle.

I froze.

The person tried a second time and, upon discovering the door was locked, stopped right outside.

I held my breath, waiting for someone to call my name or ask whether anyone was inside, but no voice came from the other side. After a few seconds, the footsteps began moving away until they faded down the hallway.

I looked at my phone, torn between calling Christopher and waiting for him to return. I had no proof that anything strange had happened; perhaps someone had simply mistaken the room for another or one of the guests had tried to enter without realizing that the bedroom was reserved for the owners of the house.

Even so, I couldn't shake my uneasiness.

I eventually settled back onto the sofa and waited, although every little noise from outside put me on edge.