A Web So Dark and Deadly

Chapter Two

Bright city lights glare into the night as we drive through the city. They seem all too harsh now after what happened in the theater. I was almost too afraid to wear the earpieces again during the show's second half. But it's what I'm getting paid for, so I followed Ms. Endlewood's instructions. Fortunately, no more disturbing music pierced my ears.

Saige glances at me from the driver seat. She offered to drive me to Ms. Endlewood's apartment, and I didn't raise any fuss. After ten minutes of silence, she sighs.

"I'm not trying to be insensitive or anything, but was the music really that bad?"

My rolls against the head cushion so that I'm facing her. "It was worse than nails on a chalkboard."

Saige nods, though the slight furrow in her brow tells me she isn't convinced. "Are you going to quit?"

I gulp. My eyes drift down to the purse and my mink shawl lying in my lap. "I'm going to ask what's going on." As for quitting, well, given my financial situation, it'd probably wiser to not act rashly in that regard.

The car turns off of the small, downtown streets, onto the highway. The high-rise buildings that had towered over us disappear. We zoom down the road. I shift, leaning my head against the window. The highway and car engine create a constant background hush of sound that soothes my ears. Fatigue knocks at my brain's corners, waiting to snake its way through and send me into deep, dreamless sleep.

Except every time I close my eyes, that music haunts me on repeat. I settle to just allow the car door to take my weight as if a bed and crack my eyes so that just enough of the surrounding cars' headlights shine in my vision.

Soon, the car soars down a ramp onto a city street. Saige navigates a few twists and turns before we make a right by a sign that reads, "Villa Vista." A rectangular building forms in the darkness. Crisp lines detail the straight, angular sides and symmetrical box-windows and terraces. Light spews from the interior onto a chalk-colored pavement and fans out so that it hits the edges of lush, perfectly-manicured grass.

Saige eases the car to a halt inside a parking space. She twists the key, ending the calming hum that kept my nerves at bay. The silence that ensues is unnerving.

My mind flashes back to the auditorium. That was the last time I heard such a complete void of noise. A slight ringing begins in my ears. It's like my brain is trying to fill in the stillness with something — anything.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Saige asks.

I shake my head, fumbling for the door handle. It pops open, letting in the cool yet slightly sticky night air. "No. Ms. Endlewood said it's fine if I want to attend the opera with a friend, but she specifically instructed me to come alone."

Saige's lips press together. "I guess that is a little worrisome."

There are a lot of things that are worrisome, now that I think about it. I guess I was just so enamored with the job that I never considered just how strange it was. What kind of boss gives you an apartment, wardrobe, and car, and pays you to attend opera concerts?

And run errands afterward. I forgot about that part. I didn't think anything of it when I first got the job. It's what I'd expect as a personal assistant. But now, I'm questioning exactly what kind of errands she wants me to do.

Two glass doors slide open for me at the front entrance, and white light blinds my eyes. The brightness jars me, making my face screw up as I approach a man sitting behind the front desk. After verifying that Ms. Endlewood is expecting me, he sends me into the elevator. Soft piano music cascades overhead while I feel myself rising up a level. The floor slows to a stop, then the doors part to the second story.