White Lies by Skye Warren

Author:Skye Warren [Warren, Skye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
Publisher: Skye Warren
Published: 2023-12-11T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sienna

In my dreams, I envision a grand circus tent filled with life-sized dolls, their movements controlled by invisible strings, creating a surreal and magical atmosphere.

I’m standing in the center of an enormous circus tent, dazzled by the spectacle surrounding me. Graceful dolls spin and twirl through the air, dancing as if on invisible strings. Their movements are fluid and precise, creating a surreal, dreamlike atmosphere.

As I watch, mesmerized, one doll breaks free of the intricate ballet. She floats down until we’re face-to-face, her porcelain features exquisite. But where her eyes should be are empty sockets, dark and fathomless.

A shiver runs down my spine at the sightless gaze. The doll’s lips curve into a knowing smile and she whispers in a voice like rustling silk, “He’s not who you think he is.”

I jerk awake with a gasp, blinking against the darkness. Just a dream, I tell myself. But the doll’s warning lingers, sowing seeds of doubt in my mind.

I blink, disoriented. For a moment I expect to see the modern interior of Logan’s RV. Then it comes rushing back—the compound, Kyle, Logan. I glance at the clock on the nightstand. I’ve been asleep for over twelve hours.

My gaze falls to a tray on a wooden table, laden with food and a vase of fresh flowers. There are bright red poppies and yellow mums and thick sprigs of lavender. A note propped against the vase catches my eye.

Eat. Don’t get up without help.

– Logan

My stomach rumbles at the scent of spice, but hesitance weighs heavy in my gut.

Logan’s kindness leaves me wary, his motives unclear.

He vowed to protect me. But can I truly trust him?

Have I traded one cage for another?

The questions swirl through my thoughts as I stare at the shadows, finding no answers in the night. The memory of his hands massaging shampoo into my hair surfaces unbidden. I shake my head, dislodging the image. I can’t trust him, no matter how comforting his presence feels.

Still, I have nowhere else to go, and I’m tired of running.

For now, I’ll play along.

I rise and pad over to the tray, intending to sample a few bites only. I’m shocked to discover a plate of chicken satay on wooden sticks, nicely browned over a fire, still juicy and vibrant. They rest on a bed of jasmine rice sprinkled with saffron.

It’s an Indonesian dish.

I don’t know the name of it, but my mother has made ones like it a thousand times. There is even a small bowl filled with peanut sauce for dipping.

My curiosity turns into rampant hunger.

Suddenly, I’m starving. Not only for protein and sustenance. I’m starving for the reminder of home. Even so close to Forrester I don’t feel like I belong. Even with my mother nearby this is not my land. It’s in the food, the flavors, the spices. It’s in the care that went into preparing this dish especially for me.

A soft knock sounds at the door.

“Sienna? Are you awake?” A feminine voice is muffled but laced with concern.

“Yes, come in.

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