Why'd You Leave The Keys Upon The Table Novels & Stories

Xavier bolted forward, scanning the porch, the yard, the street. No one. But on the welcome mat, weighted by a smooth river stone, was another folded slip of paper. He snatched it up, unfolded it. This time, it wasn’t just three words. It was a sentence. “Every lock has a key. And I have yours.” My knees went weak. Xavier’s jaw tightened until the muscle in it ticked. “We’re leaving. Now.” He grabbed my wrist, not rough, but firm, and pulled me toward the door.

“I brought you food to eat.” I shook my head, refusing to take the food even though he looked too innocent to hurt me. At this point, innocence doesn't count. “Thank you, but I'm not hungry.” “You don't have to be scared, nobody sent me.” He dropped the plate to the ground. “I stole it from the kitchen, I know you must be pretty hungry.” I was studying him. He looked at the entrance door again. “There's a key in the plate, it's a spare key. Don't tell anyone, and don't let anyone know you have it or they'll kill both of us.”

“Not yet.” I took a step forward. “Where is the key, Sophia?” She let out a soft, mocking laugh, reached into the folds of her gown, and flung the key at my chest. It bounced off and clattered onto the floor near my feet. “You can leave,” she said sweetly, waving a dismissive hand toward the main door. “I’m not keeping you here. Go on, Tate. Run back to your precious little attendant.” She didn’t wait for a reply. She slipped into the bathroom and the door clicked shut behind her.

"Go see your father and look after him. And don't forget to say hello to him." She chuckled and went to the counter to take clients' orders. When the job was done, I stayed behind to clean the dishes because it was my turn tonight. Mr. Matthew said "I'll hang the key on the stand." "Okay." "Don't forget to turn off all of the lights and close all of the windows." "Noted." I heard the front door open and close as a result of Mr Matthew leaving the cafe. After a while, I heard the door open as I was waiting for the utensils to dry before stacking them back on the shelves. "Is that you, Mr Matthew? Did you leave something out?"

Keysha woke up from his sleep, feeling confused because, as far as he remembered, he fell asleep in the living room. 'What, Xavier? Was he the one who brought me here?' Keysha's mind was guessing. Remembering last night, Keysha also remembered the document. Keysha was in the room, which apparently wasn't there. Finally, Keysha tried to find it in the family room. "Here he is," said Keysha, relieved. Keysha called one of the maids. "Yes, ma'am, can I help you?" asked the waiter politely. "Yes, this table was deliberately not cleared first?" asked Keysha curiously.

" Thomas sat silently, taking in what I said. I could see the conflict on his face. He knew I was right, but at the same time, he seemed nervous about leaving me alone with the one personality he knew might drive me away. I reached across the table and patted his hand. "You brought me here to take over, Thomas. So let me take over.” He smiled softly as I said this. He put his other hand over mine and patted it gently. He gave a small nod. “Oh!” I perked up as I suddenly remembered. “And actually give me those keys sometime. I think that wine cellar is my only leverage right now." “Right,” he agreed. He started patting his pockets, looking for where he left them. After a minute, he reached in

I'll leave because there's nothing more I can do in this house. But first, those cars, they'll have to be mine. Nothing in the house was put in my name, not even a spoon. I left the bag and went out of the room to get the car keys from Grandpa's room. But I can't find them anywhere in the room, not even the place where he keeps them. “Miss Cassie?" The maid who came to clean up the room for the last time stood shocked at the door. “Where are the keys to those two cars?"

I had come here with one suitcase and a travel bag and I was leaving with the same bag. I picked up both, opened the door, and walked out without looking back at the room. I had decided that part before I slept. No looking back at the room, the building, the city for now. Looking back was how you talked yourself out of things you needed to do. I had left the key on the table with a Simple, polite note for Mr. Smith. I thanked him for the short tenancy and left no forwarding address. The stairwell was cold. My footsteps echoed on the way down.

I spat and dropped the key in my hand on the floor. I gave him one last look and he seemed to be in a daze as he looked at the key on the floor with surprise. I turned around and without a second glance, I left the room shutting the door behind me.

My lips parted in shock. No. She hadn’t forgotten them. She had left them here… on purpose. I clutched the keys tightly to my chest, my heart racing wildly. Freedom. But why hadn’t she just told me outright? Why leave it like this? Then it struck me; this room most likely had CCTV cameras. Maybe she was afraid. Maybe she didn’t want to be caught helping me, which was why she strategically kept the keys on the food tray. But it didn’t matter. None of that mattered anymore.