Lies That Bind by Rae Knowles & April Yates

Author:Rae Knowles & April Yates [Knowles, Rae & Yates, April]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Adult
ISBN: 9781957537924
Google: t2Z_0AEACAAJ
Amazon: B0CRMHQDMX
Goodreads: 204912696
Publisher: Brigids Gate Press
Published: 2024-02-19T22:00:00+00:00

***

Viola and I pass days in the room, ordering food to be delivered when our appetites demand it. She compels me to repeat the act as Lorelei twice more in that span, and each time it feels again like I am a passenger on the journey, watching myself while some alternate version of me drives.

In the quiet moments between, I think of Lorelei and Chester. I wonder whether Chester’s gotten himself into any more trouble and whether he feels the fracture of our makeshift family as I do. Viola seems to have a sixth sense for when my mind turns to Lorelei, regaling me with stories of her travel: India, Egypt, Stockholm, places Lorelei and I couldn’t dream of traveling. She tells me about a woman she heard of, another mimic, who used her ability to thieve 91kgs of gold from a South Eastern Railway Company train in 1855. To think of it! Others out there like me, not bemoaning their oddity but embracing it.

On the fourth day, Viola draws the curtains and indulges herself in an afternoon nap. Under the guise of exploring the library, I go looking for Lorelei. If nothing else, she owes me an apology for her hideous parting word, an acknowledgement of her hypocrisy. I first check the stateroom, where I find Chester with a heap of items spread over the dingy mattress: a string of pearls, a few American dollars, a pair of spectacles, and—most puzzling—a single leather shoe.

“You look well,” I say as he ferrets his goods into an empty pillowcase.

“Can’t say the same for you! Though I don’t s’pose anyone’d look well after days starin’ at the devil’s arsehole.”

“Chester!” I near gasp. Though familiar with his forked tongue, he has never turned it on me.

“This is a private room, ma’am.” He gesticulates toward the door accompanied by a mock bow.

“Please, just tell me where I can find Lorelei.”

My plea seems to incite him, as he crosses the room and reaches across me to open the door and show me out with his eyes. “Four days gone, Adele. My Lore’s got more pressing things to tend to. She won’t be just fuckin’ about, waitin’ on you to pick her, would she?”

I dip my head. “I’m sorry, Chester.” If he hears me, he doesn’t let on, closing the door promptly once I’ve stepped over the threshold.

Next, I check the dining room, the upper decks, which remind me of the Jubilee bridge—the way the lights reflect off the walnut stain of the wooden planking, somewhat like lantern flames dancing across dark water. From there I work my way back down, even sneaking past the entry to the infirmary to venture a glance inside, but I find the beds empty, save a twenty-something man with a bandaged finger.

My ideas of where I might find Lorelei exhausted, I start course to return to my suite. Winding through the quiet halls, I realize I must have made a wrong turn, for the decor grows sparse and industrial, and

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