Free Uncovering You 5: Confessions by Scarlett Edwards Page B

certainly,” Paul mumbles, making an awkward bow. He licks his lips, clears his throat, and speaks in an oratory way. “Would you please sit with me? I’ve just put the kettle on. We will have hot tea in a minute.”
    He blinks, snapping out of the trance, and looks at Stonehart in the way an eager boy might at his father when he’s searching for approval.
    “How did I do?” he asks, his voice returning to normal.
    “Very well,” Stonehart says. “I am pleased. And my guest and I will both graciously accept your kind offer.”
    Paul smiles and bows his head. He sweeps his hand low in an obsequious way, showing us our path.
    By now, I’ve had enough time to recover. I take stock of the tiny room. There is the bed on which we found Paul. A small window is set in the opposite wall. It does not look like it can be opened. There’s a single armchair, bolted to the floor. A small bookshelf, reaching only halfway to the ceiling, stands beside a reading lamp, which is also secured. There is a desk with a neat collection of notebooks on top, along with a wheeled office chair of dark leather.
    That’s it. There’s nothing more. I spy some expendable drawers peeking out from beneath the bed, which I take store some of Paul’s belongings.
    But the kettle? It’s nowhere to be found. I don’t even see an outlet other than the one for the lamp.
    Paul directs us to his bed. I sit down with Stonehart in a daze, then watch, stunned, scared, and silent, as Paul starts preparing three invisible cups of invisible tea using an invisible tea kettle.
    He brings the first cup to Stonehart, cradling it in his hands as if it were as precious as a newborn babe. Stonehart indulges the illusion, playing along so far to even bring the cup to his lips and pretend to take a sip.
    “This is very good tea,” he murmurs. Paul glances over his shoulder and smiles at the praise. Then, he carries the next cup to me.
    My stomach is in knots. Time slows to a standstill as he hands it over. He keeps his eyes down. “Careful now,” he murmurs. “It’s very hot.”
    I say something barely intelligible as I accept. Both my hands are shaking. My nerves are shot.
    I know why things felt off in the common room. And I know, now, why Stonehart gave me the warning he did before we entered.
    We are not simply in some gated community. We are in a mental institution.
    What happened to Paul? How did he end up here? And, most important of all: what does he have to do with Stonehart?
    I’m not ashamed to admit that, at this moment, I am more afraid than I have ever been in my life. Being trapped in the dark, even the first time, when I had no idea of the identity of my captor, does not compare.
    It’s a different, more menacing type of fear that consumes me now. The way Paul responds to Stonehart, the title he gives him, the way Stonehart sprang this on me, the way he lured me here with promises of a public dinner and all that bullshit about trust…
    Obviously it means something. Just like my captivity means something. Stonehart and I have a shared past. But, it’s one that only he knows.
    That is what scares me most. I’ve now seen the extent to which Stonehart will go to to get what he wants. He chose me for a reason, and I’m certain that that reason is going to be revealed very soon.
    The reason is not what I’m worried about. Stonehart’s intentions are. I see Paul before me, a ghost from my past, downtrodden, subservient, mentally damaged, and it makes me wonder…
    Am I next?
    “Go on, Lilly.” Stonehart’s voice pulls me from my dark contemplations. “Take the tea. Paul brews one mean cup.”
    On hearing my name, Paul goes shock-still. I hear him draw a sharp intake of breath.
    “Lilly…” he says, frozen in spot. “Did you just say… Lilly?”
    My eyes dart from Paul to Stonehart. The man beside me has a look of utter triumph on his face.
    “That’s right, Paul,” he confirms. His hand tightens on my knee. “I did. She is the guest