Once There Was by Kiyash Monsef

Author:Kiyash Monsef
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2023-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

In the dark, it was hard to keep track of time. Maybe we drove for ten minutes. Maybe it was thirty. At last we came to a stop.

“Keep the bag on,” said the driver, the first words he spoke to me since the drive had begun.

I didn’t see that I had much choice.

The car door opened, and I felt my way out. A hand rested gently on my shoulder, guided me up several steps. It felt like I was indoors, walking on a hardwood floor. I heard a door shut behind me. The hand on my shoulder gave me a last guiding push, then lifted away. I stopped and stood where I was.

Several moments passed. Then I heard a familiar voice.

“You can take it off now,” she said.

I was standing in the dining room of what appeared to be a well-appointed house. At the opposite end of a long dining table, a pair of hands perched on the back of a chair in a way that reminded me of a parrot on a branch. A small chandelier—an ornate glass bowl in warm colors—hung between us. Then the bright-faced woman who’d sent me to London peered around the side of the bowl, held up her hand in greeting, and smiled. We seemed to be alone in the room.

She was wearing a casual white blouse and pale jeans. Her hair was combed neatly to one side. Her smile had a reassuring sweetness about it, but behind a pair of oxblood-rimmed glasses, her eyes were doing something cold and methodical when they looked at me.

“Hi,” I said. “Where am I?”

There were windows everywhere, but all the blinds had been drawn. I couldn’t see even a hint of the outside world.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “You’re safe. When we’re done here, you’ll be returned home, and your fee will be deposited in your bank account.”

“Fee?” I said.

“Don’t get too excited,” said the woman. “Not everyone has old griffon money to throw around. Most people don’t.”

“Is this the Tea Shop?” I asked.

She laughed. “No. This is just a house.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You can call me Jane Glass,” she said.

She sat down in the chair at the head of the table. In front of her was a small travel case made of hard plastic. She rested her forearms on either side of it and set her fingers against its edges. I sat down too, in the chair opposite her.

She smiled, the same reassuring smile, but something in her posture changed. Her back straightened, her shoulders drew broader. The slightest tic of unease and wariness crossed that pleasant face.

“You’re here because I want to help you,” she said. “But I need something from you, too.”

“I already gave you something,” I said. “I saw your musician friend.”

“That’s your job,” she said.

“And I had to give your cousin Glenn forty bucks just to text you.”

Jane made a sour face, but she didn’t seem surprised. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened. He’ll be dealt with, and you’ll get your money back.

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