I was certain no one was waiting in the hall so I took it.The door to our room was ajar. I didn't hear the shower or any movement inside, so I pushed it open and looked around.A man sat at the table where Whisper's laptop was still open and presumably showing her profile in Master PC. He had been looking at it but my entrance captured his attention."Ah, Mr. Setton I presume," he said with a touch of jovial cheer. My anger and fear were threatening to override my reservations about what to do. He sat there watching me. His eyes were dark blue, sharp and anxious. He wore an expensive looking suit that brought out the color of his eyes. His hair, dark brown, was short and well groomed. There wasn't a lick of facial hair.I walked past him to the bathroom. Whisper was gone.I came back out and reached for the man but he said, "Stop!" and held up a small corked vial. He held it so close to my face that I had to back away to focus on it."Do you know what this is Mr. Setton?" he asked with a. “Oh. No. Stick around,” He slugged lemonade into a glass and handed it to me before dropping onto the sofa. “It’s been way too long, Alessia. Sit down, huh?”He had a funny way of saying my name, an almost grandiose exaggeration to the ‘s’ sound but he didn’t seem to do it on purpose. And if he did, it only made it sound prettier. I sat on the edge of the sofa.“So, what do you do?” I asked.He tried not to smile.“I’m an artist.”It made sense. He’d been an only child, after all. No siblings to follow, precious enough to his parents to make his dreams dwarf their expectations. Or maybe they just hadn’t particularly cared.I smiled.“Oh really?”His mouth lifted reluctantly.“Yes. Hey, you wanna see a picture I did of you?”I blinked and swallowed a mouthful of lemonade hurriedly.“What?”He set his glass down, reached for a stack of canvases stored under the coffee table and flipped one over to show me. There was a triangle painted on it. Black paint.“Do you like it?” he asked.I looked at him.
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