Page 52 of Prisoner of War
She tightened it more and waited, her heart hammering.
“I have work to do and meetings to attend,” he said briskly, moving toward the door that led to his office. He stopped at the chair to pick up a brown paper bag and threw it to land onthe bed. “You will take a shower while I am gone. You may move around the room, but when I return you must be on the bed, wearing what is in that bag.”
He stepped out of the room and shut the door.
Minnie brought her knees to her chest, her ankles crossed and hugged herself, which successfully hid her nakedness from the camera in the corner. Her mind was racing.
If Duardo must play Zalaya atall times, then he could not openly speak to her as Duardo. Everything he said as Zalaya might hold a message for her—just as his comments about her “ex-lover” being in the army had guided her story.
Was there a message in what he had said before he left? She could not find any hint of such a message. Then why had he come back to the room at all? To play with her? That would be something thatZalaya would do, certainly. Zalaya would have wanted to know about the boat too. But Duardo’s instructions had been banal, indeed. “Take a shower.”
She longed for a hot shower anyway. She turned her back on the camera, moved into the bathroom and started the water. Looking back over her shoulder, she discovered that the transom over the door hid the camera from her. At least her shower wouldbe semi-private. She shut the door as far as the chain would allow, just to be certain of it.
For the next forty minutes, until the water grew cool, she let the heat soak into her body, washing away the stink of fear and exertion. It was one of the best showers she had ever taken.
She stepped out and reached for a towel and froze.
Duardo had left her a direct message after all, in ghostly lettersoutlined by steam on the big mirror over the sink.
“Mic under the bed. I must stay Zalaya.”Beneath, he had signed his name and her heart clenched at the sight of it.
Duardo.
