Page 82 of Silent Ties

The bed’s cold and empty because Max’s a masochist for getting up early. Sometimes I pop up in bed while he’s getting ready, waiting for him to kiss me goodbye. Then I’m back to bed.

But this morning, my phone on the nightstand lights up, dragging me from sleep.

Unknown Number: Your Appointment with Dr. Lowe is at 9 am. We look forward to seeing you!

I jolt out of bed.

It’s the dermatologist's office. The one I went to months ago when I tried to get a message to Marissa. I haven’t been back since and didn’t set up an appointment.

My heart pounds as I consider what to do. I could skip it, and I’d really like to do that.

Or I could tell Max. But that means dragging him into some sort of bullshit. There’s no telling what this is about and I don’t want him involved.

I shower and throw on a dress. It’s that time of summerwhen the heat becomes stifling. I ask Pavel to get the car ready and force myself downstairs. If I don’t keep going, I’ll lose my nerve.

As we crawl through traffic, I run through Marissa’s possible endgame.

There’s no way she’s bringing me an update on Daisy. Her due date is creeping up and I’ve heard nothing from her.

Things with Max are good so I tried reaching out to her on my phone, but never got anything back. She’s not working and no one ever sees her. Marissa’s keeping her somewhere.

Sergei stays in the waiting room while I’m led back. A nurse takes my vitals, chatting away. I nod when she says I’m here for a rosacea flare up and when she disappears behind the door, I wait.

And wait.

Noise trickles through the walls. Somebody’s getting treated for hair loss. Somebody else for a fungus.

My phone lights up. Daily texts from Elijah and Roma come through. My heart flutters when Max sends me a text.

Max: I thought you might like this.

I melt when I open the link and land on a recipe for cheese danishes. He enjoys savory desserts so I’ve made an effort. Lately, he’ll sit on a barstool and watch me bake.

The door flings open.

“Mrs. Zimin,” Gloria greets with false sincerity, snaking in.

As if warning bells weren’t already going off.

Gloria gets straight to business. “What do you have for us?”

I school my face blank.

“Oh, come on dear. Isn’t the honeymoon over?”

Staying silent is my best move.

Gloria’s eyes narrow. “You think you’re one of the Zimin’s now?”

“I don’t answer by any other name.”

A dry, humorless puff of laugh leaves her mouth. “No loyalty. That’s what’s wrong with your generation.”

“Sure.” I sarcastically nod my head.

“Tell me what you know about the Ghost?”

I can’t hide my surprise. “The Ghost?”

---