The name in the back of the book was simple.
Elias.
No last name. Just a phone number with an area code I didn't recognize.
I stared at it until the ink blurred.
Who are you? I wondered. And why did Dad keep you hidden on the very last page?
The lock clicked again.
I shoved the journal under my mattress. I kept the blue sweater on. It was bulky and hot over the other one, but I didn't care. It was mine.
Anya stood in the doorway. She looked at my sweater. She looked at the way I was breathing too fast.
"You look like a crazy person," she said.
"I feel like a crazy person," I snapped. "Are you here to take my shoes now? Maybe my hair?"
Anya rolled her eyes. She stepped into the room and signaled for me to follow.
"Mr. Volkov wants you to acclimatize. That's rich-person talk for looking at all the stuff you can't touch."
"I thought I was locked in."
"You are. But I'm the one with the key for the next hour. Come on. Move."
We walked out into the hallway.
The mansion felt bigger than it did last night. It was all glass and stone. It felt like walking through a giant's ribcage...
Everything was too clean. Too quiet.
"Why is it so empty?" I asked. My voice echoed off the marble.
"Mr Volkov doesn't like people," Anya said. She walked fast. I had to jog to keep up. "He says people make noise and people leave fingerprints."
I looked up. In every corner, there was a camera.
He's watching. He's always watching.
"Does he see everything?" I whispered.
Anya slowed down. She stopped in front of a massive painting of a storm at sea. She didn't look at the painting. She looked at the floor.
"Not everything," she said softly.
She pointed to a small alcove behind a marble pillar. The lighting was dim there.
"The architecture is old in some places," she said. Her voice was barely a breath. "The cameras are new. They can't see around corners. And they don't see shadows."
My heart jumped.
A dead zone.
I looked at the alcove. It was small. Just a spot to hide for a second. But it was a start.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.
Anya straightened her apron. She went back to her grumpy mask.
"Because you look like you're going to scream if you don't find a place to breathe. And if you scream, I get yelled at. Move."
We kept walking.
I started to count...
Ten steps from the bedroom door to the first camera.
Turn left. Fifteen steps to the glass gallery.
I was mapping it because I wasn't a guest anymore. I was a prisoner planning a break.
Door. Camera. Pillar. Dead zone.
We passed a room with floor-to-ceiling windows. I could see the driveway. I could see the gates.
"That's the Main Wing," Anya said, pointing to a dark hallway. "Don't go there. Ever. Marcus handles that side. He's not as nice as me."
"Marcus is the brick wall, right?"
Anya almost smiled. "Yeah. The brick wall"
We reached the library. It was two stories high. Thousands of books lined the walls.
"Can I come in here?" I asked. I reached for a leather-bound book.
"No," Anya said. She grabbed my wrist. "Rule number six. You stay in the West Wing. This is the border."
I looked at the books. They were so close.
"He has all these books and he doesn't read them?"
"He reads numbers, Liora. He reads contracts."
I looked at the hallway leading to the Main Wing. It looked like a tunnel into a mountain.
Elias.
I needed to know who that was. I needed to know if he could help me.
But I needed a phone that wasn't tapped. A way to talk without Darian listening.
"Anya," I said. My voice was shaky. "Is there a phone in the kitchen? A landline?"
Anya stopped. She looked at me like I was an idiot.
"There hasn't been a landline in this house for ten years. Everything is digital. Everything is logged."
"What about yours?"
"I don't have one," she said. She looked bitter. "Staff phones stay in the lockers at the gate. We're in the bubble, too."
I felt the walls closing in again.
We turned another corner. I saw a small door tucked under a staircase.
"What's in there?"
"Storage," Anya said.
I looked up. No camera. The ceiling was too low for a dome.
Another dead zone.
I memorized the location. Under the stairs. Near the library border.
"Okay," I said. "I've seen enough glass. Take me back."
Anya looked at me. She saw the change in my eyes. I wasn't slumped anymore. I was thinking.
"Don't do anything stupid, Liora," she warned. "He's smarter than you think."
"He thinks I'm an asset," I said. "He thinks I'm a greenhouse. He's the one being stupid."
We walked back to the West Wing.
The silence didn't feel heavy anymore. It felt like an opportunity.
Anya locked me back in my suite.
"Lunch in ten minutes," she said through the door.
I didn't answer.
I went straight to the bed and pulled out the journal.
I stared at the name Elias.
If there were dead zones, there was a way to move.
If there was a way to move, there was a way to find out the truth about my father.
And if Darian was watching the cameras, I just had to make sure I wasn't where the cameras were.
I looked at the black phone on the nightstand.
His said he is busy.
"Fine," I whispered.
I looked at the red light on the camera. It was back on.
I stood up and walked right to the center of the room.
I pulled off my father's navy sweater. I folded it neatly.
Then I looked at the lens.
I didn't say a word. I just sat on the bed and started to read a book I didn't care about.
I was playing the part.
But in my head, I was counting the steps to the door.
One. Two. Three.
I wasn't going to be his masterpiece.
I was going to be the glitch in his perfect system.
The phone buzzed again.
I didn't pick it up.
Let him wait.
I felt a cold, sharp spark of hope.
It was dangerous. It was probably a mistake.
But it was the only thing keeping me from screaming.
I looked at the door. I knew the schedule now.
I knew the layout.
Now, I just needed to know who Elias was.
And I needed to know why Darian was so afraid of a dead man's daughter.
