Free She Dies at the End (November Snow #1) by A. M. Manay Page B

up from the business section of the newspaper, “if these notes she’s made in the newspaper are what I think they are.”  He raised his eyebrow at November, asking, “Are they?”  His interest in her appeared to shock everyone in the room.
    “The dates on the left are when the stock hits its next low point and the ones on the right are the next high,” November confirmed.  “It’s just a game I play when I have a newspaper around.  I pick a few stocks and see what I can see.  You know, after I finish the crossword.”  Like you do.
    An unaccustomed smile brightened the financial advisor’s face as he shook his head, saying to William, “You pay this girl whatever she wants.  She’ll make you ten times as much.”  He laughed, “I just need to make sure we don’t get investigated for insider trading.” 
    November smiled, pleased to be appreciated for her gift instead of her blood.  After this little victory, it seemed like as good a time as any to bring up the difficult topic of her bedroom door.   “Can we talk about the lock on my door?” she asked, looking around at them.  William nodded permission.  “I have no intention of trying to run away, and I have no desire to do any of you harm.  I came here willingly, even though I know full well that things are going to wind up with me going into the ground.  I want to be able to sit in the library or eat lunch outside or go for a swim instead of being trapped in my room all day.  I want to feel like a person.”
    She took a deep breath and screwed up her courage to continue.  “I could not stand living here as a prisoner.  I’ve spent time locked up at the mercy of unkind people, and quite frankly, I’d rather die than feel again the way I felt back then.  I’ll be a hell of a lot more useful to you happy than miserable, I guarantee you.”  November exhaled loudly.  She’d been working on that speech all afternoon.
    “Why not?” Ben said.  He’d snuck in the library during the introductions and sat down on top of one of the desks, holding himself a little separate from the rest of the group.  “She’d never be able to escape the grounds.  As for our resting places, the doors are hidden and secure.  How could she even get in?”
    November swallowed.  “Actually, I’ve already found a few of the doors by accident, and finding out the codes would be trivial.  I am here because I’m a psychic, after all.” 
    "I told you we should get bio-scanners," Birch piped up.
    “You are honest to the point of self-injury; you do realize that, right?” William said to November, exasperated.
    “One of you would have figured it out eventually,” she replied.  “Withholding the truth when I’m trying to convince you to trust me seemed inappropriate.  Besides, it doesn’t matter if I got into the basement.  You must have motion detectors in there, and the doors to your rooms look like they belong in a bank vault.  I assume they’re locked from the inside.  I’d never be able to hurt anyone before the fairy staff stopped me.  Look, if you can’t trust me in your house during the day, how could you trust anything I told you about my visions?  I’m forced to trust all of you, even though apparently you’d all be happy to feed on me and do God knows what else.  Why shouldn’t you have to trust me a little bit?"  She sat down awkwardly, her speech complete. 
    Her new housemates at least seemed to be taking her seriously, the patronizing looks having disappeared from their faces.  “Well,” William said, “While we digest that, we need to get on with our evening.  Feed quickly.  Gavel is in an hour, and the defendants have started arriving and are in holding. Ben and Zinnia,” he continued, turning to face them, “keep November company.  Watch a movie or something.  We’ll be done work in about 4 or 5 hours.”    
    “I need to go hunting,” Ben countered.
    “Use something from the fridge,” Lord