Chapter Twenty

Cecilia

Greyson’s protruding brow furrowed as he held his spoon filled with red soup in mid-air. “You don’t know?”

“No. I tried to keep track, but there were no windows. They were present but boarded over. I tried to judge time by meals, but those didn’t come with any kind of regularity.”

“From the information I was given, this is day five or six.”

My puzzlement obviously showed.

Greyson went on, “As I told you before, no missing person’s report was or has been made. No police reports. No reports of your bodyguard’s murder, nothing.”

“Wait, how do you know about Matthew?”

“You mentioned it.” He inhaled. “And I was told.”

I tried to remember. “I don’t remember saying it. Who else told you?”

Greyson didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for my free hand.

I froze, my pulse increasing as I considered pulling my hand away.

I didn’t.