Felix Came to the Village

In April, Garrick brought a guest home.

I was crouched by the stove, feeding damp wood into the fire, when I heard his voice in the yard.

Not Garrick’s.

The other one.

A voice I had once planned to hear at the altar.

Felix.

My hand froze above the flame.

For one second, the world narrowed to the sound of him laughing politely at something Garrick said.

I lifted my head.

Felix Arden stood in the yard.

He looked thinner than I remembered.

Paler.

His dark coat was dusty from the mountain road, and his eyes found me immediately.

Shock flickered across his face.

Shock.

As if he had not known exactly where I was.

I stared at him.

Nothing in me moved.

Not hope.

Not love.

Not even the urge to scream.

During that first month, I had thought about the tavern every day.

The missed calls.

The hand on my wrist.

The blow to my head.

The shadow of Felix entering before I passed out.

At first, I denied it.

Then I reasoned.

Then I remembered.

Felix had invited me there.

Felix had not answered.

Felix had walked in.

And now Felix stood in Garrick’s yard like a man visiting a cousin.

He had sold me.

I still did not understand why.

But I no longer doubted what.

Garrick noticed Felix staring.

His mouth split into a grin.

“What?” he said. “Our city boy wants a taste?”

Felix lowered his head.

He said nothing.

Garrick laughed and called me inside.

I obeyed.

The moment I entered the bedroom, Garrick shoved Felix in after me and locked the door.

“Take your time, college boy,” he called through the wood. “She bites less now.”

My blood turned cold.

I backed away from Felix until my shoulders hit the wall.

“Lina,” he said softly.

“Don’t come near me.”

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

I laughed once.

It sounded dead.

“You already did.”

His face twisted.

He stepped closer, then stopped when I flinched.

“I know you don’t trust me. You shouldn’t.”

That surprised me.

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“Take this.”

I did not move.

“Please.”

I stared at his hand.

Then at his face.

The Felix I knew had been gentle. Too gentle, I used to think. The kind of man who remembered which side of the bed I liked, who sent soup when I worked late, who said he wanted a small wedding because he cared more about marriage than spectacle.

This Felix had circles beneath his eyes and a tremor in his fingers.

A liar.

Maybe worse.

Still, he was offering me paper.

Information.

I took it.

He moved to the door and listened.

Outside, Garrick shouted, “Done yet?”

Felix turned back to me.

Then he grabbed the collar of his own shirt and yanked it crooked.

He rubbed dust across his coat, messed his hair, and rolled once on the floor.

I watched, confused.

When he opened the door, he looked disheveled enough for Garrick to believe whatever he wanted.

Garrick smirked.

“Well?”

Felix forced a laugh.

“Not bad.”

I sat on the floor with my clothes deliberately wrinkled, pretending to be smaller than I was.

Garrick looked at me with disgust.

“Get up. Cook.”

I did.

I cooked dinner with the folded note hidden in my sleeve.

Felix left before dark.

Garrick ate, drank, and fell asleep heavily beside the wall.

Only then did I unfold the paper.

Five words.

Midnight. South pine woods.

Below that:

I’ll take you out.

My heart beat so hard I thought it would wake Garrick.

I read the note again.

And again.

Felix had betrayed me.

But he might also be my only way out.

Trusting him was madness.

Staying was death.

So I decided to gamble.