Genesis Girl (Blank Slate #1) - Jennifer Bardsley Page 0,69

slight rustle of papers before they close the door.

It doesn’t make any sense at all. The only thing I know for sure is that I was wrong. Headmaster Russell isn’t the master of secrets; Barbelo is. He’s not retired; he’s orchestrating it all. Lydia is his conductor, At least, she used to be. Headmaster Russell is only one of many instruments.

We are all Barbelo’s instruments. We have all been played.

A few days later, I’m invited inside Barbelo’s office to wash the floors. I’ve spent the whole week washing floors in the villa. I’ve cleaned out almost every room.

“See that?” Barbelo asks me when he invites me into his office. There’s a row of filing cabinets longer than the Archives at Tabula Rasa. “Those files are all mine. Nobody tells me what to do because I know so much.” He puts his hand on my back. “Someday soon I’ll need your help. I can’t send letters forever.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I remember back to the manor. I think about all of the letters Lydia got, calling her away. I always thought she was coming home to her purchaser, but maybe not. Maybe it was Barbelo sending her away to do his bidding.

“Important people trust us.” Barbelo stands up and walks back to his desk. “Vestals are incorruptible.” He peers at me over the rim of his glasses. “We’re unreadable, and we can go anywhere.”

I’m everywhere too. Barbelo lets me clean all over the villa. That’s my job. I’m the new cleaning lady. “I always like a girl around to make this place shine,” he says.

That’s what happened to Lilith. Barbelo liked her face in the Citrus Sunshine campaign and decided to bring her home to Plemora for himself.

At least, I think that’s what happened. I found the white headband Lilith used to wear in the commercial tucked behind some cleaner in the broom closet. When Lydia saw me holding it, she snatched it away like it was evidence.

All I know for sure is that I spend every day making this villa sparkle. I’ve also cleaned Barbelo’s cell, which is totally ordinary. Lydia’s room is right next door and is every bit as basic but does include a closet.

There’re plenty of locked closets, but there’s only one room in this whole place that I haven’t been in yet. I can smell its stench coming from under the floor.

That’s where we’re standing today, the three of us.

“Don’t make her do it, Barbelo,” Lydia pleads. “Please don’t send her in there.”

Barbelo snaps his fingers. “That’s enough, Lydia. It’s time Blanca sees our guest. I think she’s ready.”

“She’s not ready. She’ll never be ready.” Lydia steps in front of me, protecting me from the unknown.

That’s when Barbelo slaps her across the face.

“Blanca, get your bucket,” he says.

So I grab my supplies. And when Barbelo opens the door, the smell becomes overwhelming. It’s the stench of rot, shit, and despair all rolled into one.

Somewhere inside the little room, someone or something is moaning. When my eyes finally dilate, I see a creature, huddled underneath the cot.

It’s Beau.

“Do you know why he’s here?” Barbelo asks me from the doorway.

“No, sir. I don’t.”

“Because Beau tried to run. He thought he could follow that whore of his. But Lydia found him first, and we’ll find Fatima too. She can’t hide forever. Not when we’ve got her lover boy as our hostage.”

“That’s brilliant,” I lie.

“Of course it is,” Barbelo says. “Now clean this place out. I’ll be right here watching.”

“Yes, Father. Of course, Father.” It hurts me, knowing that Beau is hearing me call Barbelo Father.

But I’m not sure if Beau can hear me. All six feet of him is crouched into the fetal position, and his eyes are wild. As I scrub away the filth, he stares at me without recognition.

At least I can make his prison clean.

I think Lydia’s trying to protect me. She slips me extra food when Barbelo’s not looking. She brings me books. After the blessing ceremony last night, she brushed a strand of hair off my face and behind my ear. I wonder if she was thinking about the manor, and about that time she brushed my hair. I am loyal. I am …

I wonder if she wishes we could go back home.

Maybe Lydia can’t leave anymore, after what happened with Ethan. Maybe this is it for her, and she thinks that we’re going to be our own weird family. But you can’t trade a McNeal for a Vestal; it